Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nexlii was definitely Lance’s least favorite planet of the three he’d been stationed on.

He never thought he would see the day when he’d start missing Talruga, where almost everything had been either poisonous, venomous, or a combination of the two, but at least on Talruga there had been plenty of things to look at. Nexlii was nothing but miles and miles of purple sand and rocks as far as the eye could see, a view that got old very quickly.

Well, maybe he was just a bit bitter that he’d been stuck working in the observatory for the third week in a row. He would much rather have been out in the field exploring the planet than sitting in front of a computer all day recording temperature changes. 

He sighed, humming along to the radio as he typed in the latest report. The one saving grace of having the night shift was that there was no one else around to complain if he had the radio cranked up to max volume.

“300 hours. 2 degree temperature drop, no physical changes,” he muttered. Then, louder, in an announcer-like voice: “In other news, Lance McClain has been promoted to the planet’s first human thermometer. His parents must be so proud.” He leaned back in his chair with a groan, running his hand through his hair.

It wasn’t that he minded being out here— going to space had been his dream, after all. But it wasn’t exactly what he’d been expecting. He’d always pictured life out here being a bit more… well, exciting. And after three years of doing almost the same thing day after day, a part of him was left feeling kind of… empty. Like he was missing something and didn’t know what it was.

He missed his family, but he had expected that. And he knew he’d be able to see them soon— it was only a couple months before he’d be due to visit them again. Yet even when he was with them, he still felt like he was searching for something he didn’t fully understand.

Lance’s mother always said he was a child of the stars, and he had hoped to find his destiny out among them.

He didn’t feel like he’d found it yet. He was beginning to think he wasn’t going to.

The current song came to an end, and Lance reached up and flicked through the radio channels. Most of them consisted of nothing but static, which was probably to be expected with the earth hundreds of millions of miles away and all, but annoying nonetheless. After cycling through a second time, he gave up and turned the radio off, then scrubbed a hand over his face as his eyelids began to droop.

The lights of the station flickered, then shut off completely, drenching the observatory in darkness. Lance’s computer shut off with a muted click. He frowned, leaning forward and tapping his hand against the side of it, but it remained unresponsive. A flicker of movement from the sky beyond the observatory windows caught his eye.

At first he was going to dismiss it as one of the Garrison’s ships, but upon closer inspection, it didn’t look like any ship he’d ever seen before. It was almost completely black with bright violet accents, and its edges were sharp and angular, a stark contrast to the boxy, bright orange and white Garrison ships. It crossed the sky in an arc, descending towards the surface of the planet, its movements quicker and more precise than anything the clunky Garrison ships were capable of.

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the ship vanished somewhere along the horizon line. The thick silence that had fallen over the room was broken by a whirring rumble as the generator kicked in, and the observatory flooded with harsh white light once more. Lance covered his eyes with his hand as they adjusted, then sat up, his drowsiness fading in an instant. He stumbled out of his chair and snatched his Garrison-issued orange and white jacket from the back of it, shrugging it on as he made a beeline for the elevator. 

But he hesitated with his hand inches from the door panel, biting his lip. Coming to a split second decision, he grabbed a blaster from the rack nearby and slung it over his shoulder.

Just in case.

 — 

The hangar doors slid open with a metallic screech and Lance pulled his jacket collar closer against the cool night air. One good thing about this planet was that it had an Earth-like atmosphere, which meant there was no need for clunky space suits, a fact that Lance was immediately grateful for after being cramped in the stuffy observatory for hours.

He jogged down the length of the hangar, sizing up the clunky transport vehicles and slowing as his gaze landed on a bright red and white hoverbike tucked away in the corner. Sure, he wasn’t technically authorized to use it, but this was also technically an emergency, right? 

He headed towards it, unable to keep a grin from forming on his lips. He paused a few paces away, glancing over his shoulder and scanning the upper decks of the hangar to make sure he wasn’t being watched. Not that he was doing anything wrong, of course, he just didn’t want to waste precious time having to come up with an explanation. Once he confirmed that the hangar was vacant, he hoisted himself over the side of the bike, then revved the engine. The bike rose into the air slowly, hovering a few feet off of the ground. He grabbed the handlebars as it teetered off to the side, taking a moment to steady himself before he gently tapped his foot on the gas pedal.

The bike shot forward like a bullet, hurtling towards the opposite wall of the hangar. Lance let out a shriek and leaned hard to his left, throwing his weight into the motion, and just barely managed to clear the hangar doors.

The bike picked up speed as it crossed the dark violet landscape, kicking up tall plumes of sand in its wake. Once he felt a bit more daring, Lance pressed his foot down on the gas, then let out a whoop as the bike lunged forward at breakneck speed, with the cool wind buffeting him and tugging at his hair and clothes.

He hadn’t been able to set foot outside the Garrison station since he’d arrived three weeks ago, and truthfully he’d been dying for an excuse to finally get out. The view from the observatory windows was nothing compared to this. The landscape was covered in violet sand, dotted with wide craters and crystal clusters jutting up from the ground that ranged in size from the height of a small child to a towering skyscraper.

However, the further Lance got from the station, the more the landscape began to change. The terrain became rocky and uneven, and with only the bike’s dim headlights and the light of the moon to guide him, it was becoming difficult to see more than five feet in front of him, let alone track down a rogue ship. 

He eased up on the gas, considering turning back. He wasn’t even sure where the ship had landed, after all, and part of him was starting to wonder if he’d fallen asleep at his desk and dreamt up the whole thing. Or maybe he’d become so desperate for excitement that he only saw what he wanted to see. A pang of disappointment settled in his stomach, and he let out a low sigh of resignation.

He was just about to pull back when he noticed the chasm in front of him.

He slammed on the brakes, clinging to the bike for dear life as his momentum threw him forward. The bike shuddered to a stop a few paces from the edge of the cliff, its engine letting out a concerning whine. 

Lance stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily. Eventually, he managed to pry his fingers loose from the handle of the bike and shift it into reverse. But he hesitated with his foot resting on the gas pedal, tilting his head as he caught sight of a strange arrangement of lights from further down in the chasm.

He frowned, considering for a moment, then cut the engine. He shakily stepped off of the bike, wobbling a little and windmilling his arms to keep his balance. He squinted into the darkness as he walked along the side of the ravine, careful to watch his footing.

The cluster of lights belonged to a large dark shape poised on the brink of a ledge on the other side of the ravine. Lance hastily dropped down to his hands and knees as he recognized it as the rogue ship he’d been chasing. He unclipped his binoculars from his belt as he inched towards the edge of the cliff, then held them up and zoomed in on the ship. 

Up close, he could see that it was vaguely diamond-shaped, with its wings and sides converging into sharp edges. It was bigger than the Garrison ships, about the size of a large transport ship, and completely black save for the bright violet lights on the side. 

As Lance watched, the doors at the back of the ship slid open, and a small ramp descended into the sand. A hooded figure emerged from the ship, dressed in a dark space suit, their face obscured by a mask covered in strange glowing markings. They stretched their arms over their head as they came to the bottom of the ramp and pulled their hood down. Then they pressed a hand against the side of their mask and it dissipated as though it was made of smoke.

Lance breathed in sharply. Whoever this was— they weren’t human.

They had large, cat-like ears, framed by inky black hair with a dark magenta ombré. Their skin was a deep lilac color, and they had dark lines that ran from the base of their jaw to beneath their eyes. And their eyes— their eyes were their most striking feature, which glowed bright yellow even in the darkness. Lance inched forward, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. His hand struck a stray rock and sent it over the edge of the chasm, and he winced as it clattered against the cliff face.

The pilot stiffened, their ears flicking back. They shot a glance over their shoulder and their bright yellow eyes locked with Lance’s.

Lance let out a startled cry and scrambled away from the cliff edge, reaching for the blaster draped across his back. He stayed frozen, waiting as the seconds seemed to stretch on into hours, hardly daring to breathe.

A low hum echoed from beyond the cliff, growing louder and louder until it was almost deafening. Lance’s mind screamed at him to run, but he couldn’t get his muscles to respond. Then, slowly, the ship rose from the chasm, towering over him and sending out pounding ripples of wind in its wake. In an instant, everything was engulfed in blinding light, and Lance squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face with his hand.

And then… nothing.

Lance waited a few seconds before daring to open his eyes again. He sat up slowly, scanning around him before cautiously creeping back to the mouth of the chasm. But both the skies and the ledge were vacant.

The ship was gone.

Chapter Text

It was nearly sunrise by the time Lance made it back to the Garrison station, and a warm magenta glow began to seep into the dusty landscape.

Unfortunately, that meant that the first shift had started, dashing Lance’s hopes of sneaking the hoverbike back in undetected.

He pulled into the hangar slowly, projecting nonchalance and pretending that there was nothing strange about what he was doing. While he did garner a few skeptical looks from some of the cadets, they seemed too tired to care enough and say anything.

Once the hoverbike was safely stowed back where he’d found it, Lance snuck up to his room, his head still reeling from his strange encounter with the rogue ship. He considered trying to tell someone about it, but without tangible proof, he doubted anyone would believe him. Truthfully, he was starting to have trouble believing the whole thing himself.

He scanned his badge on the panel beside his door and let out a yawn as he entered the room. His head was beginning to throb from lack of sleep and he could barely keep his eyes open, but he took a moment to get ready for bed, changing out of his now dust-covered uniform and kicking his boots off. Then he collapsed onto the thin mattress, half asleep before he even hit the pillow.

He felt like he barely had time to close his eyes before his alarm was going off again. He swatted at it blindly, letting out an unintelligible grumble, his entire body feeling like lead. He came to slowly, and so did his memories of the night before.

The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous the whole thing seemed. He reasoned that it was likely some bizarre dream conjured up by exhaustion, then forced himself to get up and prepare for his shift.

And by the time he made it out the door, he had almost convinced himself.

Almost.

After all, it was the logical explanation. The easy one. The one that he desperately tried to satisfy himself with over the next few days.

But there were times when he wondered. Times when he sat alone in the observatory at night and caught himself watching the dark skies expectantly, because truthfully, deep down, he wanted to prove himself wrong.

But as more days passed, the skies remained vacant, the workload nearly doubled, and he was forced to move on.


—


It was two weeks from the night Lance thought he saw the rogue ship that Iverson announced some new recruits would be arriving soon. Which, considering how short staffed the station had been, was great news.

Until it wasn’t.

“A roommate?” Lance said, groaning inwardly. It wasn’t that he was opposed to the idea in theory, but the last roommate he wound up with turned out to be the most insufferable, stuck-up twerp that he had ever had the displeasure of knowing. He didn’t think he could bear months of that again.

But maybe he was just jumping the gun a bit. After all, there was no way he could end up with someone worse than James Griffin.

...Right?

Lance bit his lip, scrolling through the list of names and room assignments on his tablet as he crossed the hall, desperately hoping that he’d get lucky and end up with one of the friends he had made back on the Earth station.

He traced the name next to his room number with his finger and frowned, his brows furrowing.

“Keith Kogane?” he muttered. “Who the heck is Keith Kogane?”


—


The Garrison station was smaller than Keith had anticipated.

Not to say that it wasn’t big, but he’d been expecting a bit more. 

The facility had five floors, with the hangar and med bay on the first floor, the research lab on the second, the supply room and the residential hall on the third, and the observatory on the fifth. He wasn’t sure what was on the fourth floor, only that he definitely wasn’t allowed to be there. Which, naturally, put it on top of his list of places to visit when he got a chance.

He traversed the maze of hallways with a box of supplies in his arms, dipping his head to the occasional passerby and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. After more than a few wrong turns, he finally managed to reach the residential hall. 

This section of the station was more dimly lit than the rest, illuminated only by a few pale orange bars of light that ran along the walls. Keith let out a small sigh of relief, but his unease quickly returned as he reached the door to his room. He took a deep breath, going over the introduction he’d prepared for his roommate in his head. Then he balanced his box of supplies in one arm and he held his badge up to the panel on the side of the door.

The door slid open with a whir, and Keith let out the breath he’d been holding. The room was empty.

After setting the box of supplies on the empty desk on the left side of the room, Keith laid down on the bed next to it, letting his legs dangle over the edge and staring up at the dull grey ceiling. It took only a few seconds for his relief to transform into impatience, however, as he knew that this was only delaying the inevitable. He sat up, bouncing his leg in nervous apprehension and watching the door. As the seconds ticked by and it remained closed, his gaze drifted to the opposite side of the room.

It looked almost identical to Keith’s own, aside from the various junk, knick-knacks, and messy stacks of paper that covered nearly every surface, including the floor. Above the bed hung a grainy wood board covered by dozens of photos of people smiling back at him. Keith glanced over his shoulder at the barren wall behind him, without even a board to hang pictures on. Not that he would have anything to put on one anyways.

He shook his head to pull himself out of his thoughts and stepped up to the mirror near his bed, clearing his throat.

“Uh. Hi. I’m Keith,” he told his reflection awkwardly. “It looks like we’re going to be roommates. So, it’s nice to meet you?” He bared his teeth in a forced smile that quickly fell into a grimace and groaned, letting his forehead fall against the mirror.

He was no good at this. He had never been very good at talking to people; he had never needed to be. He was a warrior, not… whatever this was. He let out a resigned sigh and headed for the door, deciding that some fresh air and a bit of espionage would be just the thing to help clear his mind.


— 

The fourth floor didn’t turn out to be half as interesting as Keith had hoped. All that work to sneak past the guards undetected and hack into the security system, yet all he’d come across were piles of faulty equipment and supplies. And his visit met an untimely end when he slipped and knocked over a stack of supply crates, alerting every guard on the floor to his presence. So much for keeping a low profile.

Luckily, he was able to come up with an excuse on the spot, and the guards let him off with a warning. But he couldn’t shake the humiliation that settled in his stomach on the way back. It wasn’t like him to botch something so simple. Maybe he was losing his edge. And if he couldn’t even handle something like that… he shook his head to break himself out of his spiral.

He wasn’t sure how long he was away, but by the time he made it back to his room, he wasn’t alone.

His roommate, a lanky boy with freckled brown skin and short tousled hair, lay sprawled out on the bed opposite Keith’s, with a sleeping mask covering his eyes and a headset over his ears. 

Keith sighed. He supposed introductions would have to wait until tomorrow. He flopped face-first down on his bed, rolling over until he was facing the wall and pulling the covers over his head.


— 

Keith was woken up by the sound of an alarm. He was alert in an instant, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he tried to remember where he was. He heard someone groan from the opposite side of the room and looked over as his roommate reached out and smacked at something on his desk until the alarm stopped. The boy then flopped onto his stomach and covered his head with his pillow.

Keith frowned at him, then stretched his arms over his head and stood up with a yawn. “I, uh, I think we’re supposed to get up,” he said, tugging on the pillow covering the boy’s head.

“Five more minutes,” his roommate grumbled, pulling the pillow tighter.

Keith yanked the pillow out of his grasp and the boy let out an offended cry, finally sitting up to send Keith a scowl that probably would’ve been a bit more effective if he wasn’t still wearing that stupid mask. The boy seemed to come to the same conclusion, so he snatched it off, and his dark brown eyes met Keith’s.

Almost immediately, the boy’s expression changed. He looked a little dazed, blinking at Keith while his mouth dropped open a bit. Then he tilted his head, his brows furrowing.

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?”

“No,” Keith said a little too quickly.

The boy frowned, looking deep in thought. “...Right.” He yawned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sooo… you’re one of the new transfers, right? Is this your first station?” 

Keith nodded.

“Ah. Well, unfortunately for you, you got stuck on the most boring planet on this side of the universe. But luckily for you, you wound up with the best roommate in the universe. I’m Lance, by the way,” the boy said with a wink.

“Keith.”


—


Lance wasn’t really sure what to make of Keith.

They had lived in the same room together for a week and Lance still felt like he didn’t know the guy at all.

Keith kept to himself, often only coming back to their room at night a few hours after curfew and sometimes not at all. His side of the room remained barren, save for a small box of supplies on his desk that he still hadn’t bothered to unpack. Lance had started worrying that maybe he’d done something to offend him, as Keith barely seemed to acknowledge his existence. Even when Lance tried to make conversation, Keith remained quiet and closed off, often only giving one word answers.

Which was fine, Lance supposed. As far as roommates were concerned, he could definitely do worse.

He pushed thoughts of his reclusive mullet-head roommate to the back of his mind as he pulled up the day’s mission posting on his tablet, and his mood instantly brightened when he found that he was assigned to a scouting mission on the other side of the planet.

However, his excitement faltered as he made it to the ship’s cabin only to find the pilot’s seat already occupied.

“Uh, what are you doing?” he asked Keith, who was currently sitting in his spot.

Keith raised an eyebrow, pulling the seatbelt across his chest. “Flying the ship?”

“But I’m the pilot.”

“What’s the difference?”

Lance opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again, deciding that the last thing he needed was to get on bad terms with the guy he’d be sharing a room with for the next couple months. He sighed, swallowing his objection and sinking into the passenger seat.

Keith ran through the startup procedures with practiced ease, his fingers flitting across buttons and dials on the dashboard. The engine came to life with a resounding hum. A tinge of bitterness sparked in Lance’s chest, and he crossed his arms, scowling out the window. Keith drummed his fingers against the control wheel while the hangar doors slid open, and once the station gave the all-clear, he pulled the ship into the air.

Now, Lance considered himself to be a decent pilot. But Keith— Keith flew like he had been doing it his whole life, like he was born to fly. He made even the clunky Garrison transport ship glide like a luxury jet as it climbed into the sky, the ship’s motions fluid and precise. Not that Lance would ever admit any of that.

It was completely unfair. Not only did the guy look like he had just walked off the set of an action movie, but he had to be cool as well. It made Lance’s insides twist uncomfortably. Jealousy, he decided. After all, Lance had worked day and night to get where he was, and this rookie thought he could just come out of nowhere to show him up? And as if that wasn’t enough, the jerk had the audacity to look smug while doing it.

“So, are you going to contact the station or what?” the jerk in question asked once they neared the landing site.

“You gonna contact the station or what?” Lance repeated in a mocking voice as he punched the number into the radio with probably a bit more exaggeration than was strictly necessary. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Keith quirk an eyebrow at him. He slouched back into his chair as the com rang, crossing his arms over his chest. Deep down he knew he was being a bit petty, but seriously, who did this guy think he was?

The com connected, and Lance gave the station a quick update on their progress. He and Keith had been sent out to investigate and repair one of the radio towers set up by the Garrison that had recently stopped sending out signals.

Keith carefully lowered the ship onto the landing site, and Lance was out of his seat before it touched down. After gathering their supplies from the cargo hull, he headed outside without waiting for Keith. 

The hum of the engine roared in his ears as he descended the ship’s ramp to the small sandy bank beneath it. He lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the fading sunlight as he surveyed the landscape. Reddish gold light reflected off of the rocky cliffs surrounding him, making them shimmer like glass. The terrain on this side of the planet consisted mostly of jagged cliffs and steep gorges, and the uneven surface of the land had forced them to land the ship in a large crater about a half mile from the site of the tower.

The engine of the ship fell silent, followed by the sound of footsteps against metal. Lance looked back as Keith descended the ship’s ramp, watching as streaks of golden sunlight fell over his face and dark hair.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he’d seen Keith somewhere before.

“Everything okay?” Keith asked, and Lance quickly averted his gaze, realizing that he’d been staring.

“We should get moving,” Lance said, hiking up his backpack and starting off in the direction of the tower.

 “You, uh. You know you’re going the wrong way, right?”

Lance scoffed, pivoting on the spot. “Of course I know that. I was just testing you.”

“…Right.”

Following the beacon on his tablet, Keith led them down a narrow gorge that tapered off of the crater. The sun set behind them as they walked, leaving the land shrouded in darkness, but the moon provided them with just enough light to continue on relatively unhindered. 

The gorge opened up into a large clearing ahead, and they had almost reached it when Keith froze. Lance let out a quiet yelp as he ran into him.

“Uh… Keith?” Lance asked, poking Keith’s back when he remained unresponsive.

“My scanner is picking up life forms up ahead.”

Lance blinked. “Life forms? You mean like… aliens?” He leaned forward, trying to peer at the tablet over Keith’s shoulder.

“Well, technically, we’d be the aliens here.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Anything we should be worried about, Mr. Know-It-All?”

Keith hesitated a moment, tapping his finger against the side of the tablet. “I’m not sure. They’re still pretty far away, but…” He trailed off, taking a few steps into the clearing, and Lance moved to stand beside him.

“Oh…” Keith said quietly as he looked up, and Lance breathed in sharply as he followed Keith’s gaze.

“Is that… the radio tower?”

Keith’s lips pulled into a thin line. “I think it was, at one point.”

Lance swallowed. Mangled didn’t begin to describe the state of the tower— there was nothing left of it but twisted shards of metal scattered around the side of the clearing.

“Maybe… maybe the wind knocked it down?” Lance suggested hopefully.

Keith didn’t answer. The light of the tablet illuminated his solemn expression as he looked out at the wreckage. “I think we should go back,” he said carefully.

“Why, Keithy boy, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were scared,” Lance teased, nudging Keith’s arm. Keith shot him a glare, then looked back down at the scanner. He stiffened.

“The life forms are closer.”

“How close?” Lance pressed, the urgency in Keith’s voice enough for him to unsling his blaster.

“I—I don’t understand,” Keith said, looking up and scanning the clearing wildly. “They’re— they should be right in front of us—”

Then, in a scene that looked like something straight out of a horror movie, a dark skeletal limb burst out of the ground. Keith and Lance jumped back as a giant, skeletal, vulture-like creature with glowing emerald eyes pulled itself out of the ground with a horrifying screech. 

The creature towered a few feet over them as it drew itself up to full height. They continued to back away slowly, and Lance kept his blaster trained on it.

Without warning, the creature lunged.

Lance fired a few shots at it and the creature recoiled, letting out a hissing sound and slumping over. Lance was about to suggest a retreat when he caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye.

“Keith, behind you!”

A second zombie-bird lashed out at Keith with a clawed talon, and he narrowly managed to duck to the side. Lance aimed his blaster at it but before he could take the shot, Keith lunged forward, a curved blade appearing in his hand in a flash of light seconds before he drove it into the creature. The creature fell back with a hiss, landing in a heap on the ground, and Keith slowly backed away.

“Dude, where the heck did you get a sword from?” Lance asked.

Keith blinked at him, then looked blankly down at the blade in his hand, as though he had no idea how it had gotten there. “Uh,” he supplied helpfully.

Lance was about to question him further when another skeletal talon burst up from the ground a few paces away from them. 

And another. 

And another. 

And Lance caught sight of the creatures he and Keith had taken down not seconds before pulling themselves up again— no, pulling themselves together again, their ebony bones clicking together as they brought themselves back to full height with a terrible screech.

“Now what?” Lance asked, backing away from the steadily growing army of giant zombified bird-creatures.

“Run?” Keith suggested.

Lance didn’t need to be told twice. He turned on his heel and sprinted away from the zombie-bird army, with Keith at his side.

“We need to get back to the ship,” Lance yelled.

Before Keith could respond, he was cut off by a deafening crack— their only warning before the ground collapsed beneath them.

For a moment, Lance was left plummeting through darkness, then something slammed into him and he was underwater. He twisted around and pushed towards what he hoped was the surface, finally opening his eyes and gasping for breath as he felt the cool air against his face.

He rubbed the water out of his eyes, glancing around. The large cavern around him was illuminated by the pool of fluorescent magenta water he had fallen into, with ripples of light dancing along the dark violet rocks.

“Keith!” he called out, twisting around and scanning the cavern.

“Here,” a voice answered, and Lance turned towards the sound of it. Keith was clinging to the side of the cavern, his wet hair falling into his eyes.

“You okay?” Lance asked.

Keith grimaced. “Not really. I hit my leg on something.”

Lance swam towards him, then held out his arm in a silent offering. Keith’s eyes widened a fraction before he took it, and Lance pulled him to the far side of the cavern, where the water was shallow enough to stand.

“What now?” Keith asked, letting go of Lance’s arm.

Lance shrugged, the water sloshing around his knees as he walked. “Guess we just… keep walking and hope we can find a way out of here?” he suggested. Keith grumbled something unintelligible in response. Lance glanced over at him, frowning as he noticed that Keith was limping. “Don’t you think you should take a look at your leg?”

“It’s fine. Let’s just get out of here.”

Lance’s frown deepened, but he let out a resigned sigh. “If you say so.”

The cavern ahead of them narrowed into a small tunnel, and as they made their way inside, Lance noticed that the walls were lined with strange luminous vines that criss-crossed over the dark rocks like glowing blue veins. Small white flowers dotted the vines and shrank into buds as they walked past.

“Whoa,” Lance said, reaching towards one of the buds. “We haven’t found plant life anywhere else on the planet. Keith, do you still have your tablet with you? We should get pictures.”

Keith rummaged around in the knapsack slung across his shoulder, then pulled out the tablet and handing it to Lance. Lance’s heart sunk a bit as a few drops of water fell off of it, but to his surprise, the screen still lit up as he tapped on it.

“Wow, these things are durable,” he mumbled, lifting it up to snap a few pictures of the strange flora that covered the walls of the cavern.

Then he froze, looking back towards the end of the tunnel.

“Did you hear that?” he asked, keeping his voice low, though he wasn’t exactly sure why.

“Hear what?”

“It’s like… a hum? Well, it’s almost more of a feeling than a sound, if that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t,” Keith assured him, “and I don’t hear anything.”

Lance lowered the tablet and started down the tunnel again, ignoring the strange look Keith sent him.

“Shouldn’t we be walking away from ominous noises?”

“Come on, Keith, where’s your sense of adventure?” Lance teased. He wrinkled his nose a bit at the squelching noises his soaked boots made as he walked. He was definitely going to wind up with blisters later.

“I think I’ve had enough adventure for one day,” Keith grumbled.

The pulsing hum grew louder as they rounded a corner, and Lance found himself hesitating. Truthfully, there was something about it that made him feel uneasy, but it wasn’t like he was going to admit that with Keith around.

So he pressed onward, and the humming grew louder and louder until the vibrations started to shake the ground beneath his feet and dislodge dust from the tunnel around him.

“What is that?” Keith asked from behind him. "I don’t like this. Something feels wrong about this place.”

Then, as suddenly as it had started, the humming fell silent.

The path beyond them opened up into a spacious cavern, with beams of moonlight filtering in through breaks in the rocks above them. The entire cavern was filled with about a foot of glowing magenta water, and the walls were covered by luminous blue vines with flowers that dwarfed the ones they had seen in the tunnels.

But none of that was what caught Lance’s attention.

Because slumped against the left side of the cavern, half buried in rocks and covered in vines, was a starship.

It resembled the one Lance thought he’d seen several nights before, with the same ebony coloring and violet lights on the side that still flickered on every couple seconds with a static-y buzzing sound. But this ship was far, far larger than the one he had seen before, roughly as tall as a small skyscraper and as long as at least twenty jetliners put together. It looked as though it had been here for a very long time, as Lance couldn’t imagine the tangle of vines that grew around it had cropped up overnight, and there were clear signs of water damage scarring the bottom of the ship.

“Lance, we need to get out of here. Now,” Keith said through his teeth.

Lance looked back and found that Keith was still standing near the entrance of the cavern, eyeing the ship warily.

“Are you kidding me?” Lance threw his arms over his head, running his fingers through his hair in an exaggerated motion. “Do— do you realize what this is? This is an alien ship! This is indisputable proof that there’s intelligent life out there!”

Keith remained silent, his expression unreadable. Lance pulled the tablet from his bag as he turned away, sweeping the camera over the expanse of the ship as he walked alongside it. But then his gaze caught on a strange insignia printed on the side, and his pace faltered.

Something about the symbol felt vaguely familiar, leaving Lance feeling like the air around him had suddenly grown colder, like his blood had started to freeze in his veins.

“Alright, you have the video, now let’s get out of here,” Keith said, keeping his voice low and finally moving to stand beside Lance.

Lance forced a laugh. “Geez, I didn’t take you for a such a worrywart, Keith,” he said, turning the tablet towards Keith and zooming in on his face.

Keith scowled at him from behind the camera. “Stop pointing that thing at me! And I mean it, we’re leaving now. I’ll haul you out on my back if I have to.”

Lance lowered the tablet just enough to stick his tongue out at Keith. “I’d like to see you try, Mullet.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed at the challenge and he took a step towards Lance, who jumped backwards with an undignified squeak, the tablet flailing in his hands.

They both froze as a violent tremor shook the cavern, followed by the horrible sound of metal scraping against metal, pulling Lance’s gaze back towards the ship.

The humming noise returned, louder than ever, followed by the sound of slow, heavy footsteps.

Lance leapt back with a yelp as a large metal panel fell off the side of the ship, crashing into the water below and causing a small wave to sweep over his knees. He felt Keith grab his arm, urgently pulling him away from the gaping hole in the side of the ship, but just before Lance turned away he thought he caught sight of a glowing violet light appear in the darkness.

Lance stuffed his tablet back into his bag as Keith pulled him towards one of the tunnels carved into the side of the cavern, a different one than the one they’d entered from. Lance silently prayed that it wouldn’t lead them to a dead end as the footsteps behind them continued, slow and steady, shaking the ground every time they connected with it. The water around Lance’s feet resisted him with every step, leaving him feeling as though he was running in slow motion, and his heart pounded in his throat. Keith held onto his arm so tightly that his nails dug into Lance’s skin, but Lance couldn’t find it in him to care.

The footsteps behind them stopped.

Keith glanced behind them and his eyes widened, and he let out a curse before yanking Lance to the side seconds before the world erupted in fire.

Lance squeezed his eyes shut against the blinding light, unable to hear anything but the ringing in his ears, and the only thing left grounding him in reality was Keith’s hand clutching his wrist, dragging him forward. Time seemed to grind to a halt, and Lance wasn’t sure if he’d been running for hours or merely seconds before he finally dared to open his eyes again.

The blinding light had faded, and Lance glanced over his shoulder to find a deep, charred scar running along the side of the cavern, with the tunnel they had been heading towards collapsed and destroyed.

Lance shifted his gaze back towards the ship to find the source of the blast, finally catching his first glimpse of their pursuer.

It was something that Lance could only describe as a robotic monster, standing about three stories high with unnaturally long metal limbs, clawed fingers, and a single glowing bright violet eye where its face would be. Even now, it continued to slowly pursue them, moonlight illuminating its metal features as it stepped underneath the shafts of light in the center of the cavern.

Lance looked back at Keith, who was still holding onto Lance’s arm, leading him towards another one of the tunnels that lined the cavern. Lance called out Keith’s name, pulling him back.

“What is it?” Keith asked as he looked back, his eyes wide and frantic.

“We can’t leave. If we go into one of those tunnels, that thing could bring the whole cave down on top of us.”

Keith’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned to face Lance completely, still clutching on to Lance’s wrist. “Then what do we do?” he asked, desperation creeping into his voice.

“We have to fight back.”

Keith’s eyes widened, then quickly darted back to where the robot was undoubtedly closing the distance between them.

“That thing’s powerful, but it’s slow,” Lance continued. “As long as we watch out for its ranged attack, if we play it safe and try to find a weakness, we might have a chance.”

Keith studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable, then he dipped his head. “Okay,” he said, his hand falling away from Lance’s wrist. When his dark eyes met Lance’s again, Lance could see a fiery determination burning within them. “I’m going in.”

“Wait—” Lance reached out to grab him but Keith was already gone, darting off like a bullet with his blade appearing in his hand in a flash of light as he ran to meet their attacker.

“So much for playing it safe,” Lance muttered, quickly unslinging his blaster.

Keith lunged towards the monster, swinging his sword in a sharp arc aimed at the thing’s leg, but the blow bounced off of the metal harmlessly. The robot lifted its arm to swat at Keith, but as Lance predicted, its movements were slow and sluggish, and Keith was able to dodge the attack easily.

As soon as Keith was clear, Lance fired a few shots at the robot, most of which bounced off harmlessly, but Lance narrowed his eyes as he noticed it raise its arm to block the shot aimed at its face. But before he could say anything, a circle of light flashed around the robot’s eye as it lowered its arm, and Lance could feel the air around him prickle with electricity.

“Keith, look out!” he yelled.

The robot’s eye exploded into a blinding beam of light, disintegrating everything in its path, burning through thick rock pillars as though they were made of paper. Lance watched helplessly as Keith narrowly avoided being caught in the blast, but relaxed a bit as he realized that Keith would be able to outrun the beam easily, just as he had before.

But then Keith’s bad leg crumpled beneath him.

Time seemed to slow, and Lance lunged forward. He wasn’t sure what he was planning to do, he wasn’t sure there was anything he could do, but he knew he couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

He threw himself between Keith and the blast, raising his hand towards it, as though he could stop it through sheer force of will alone.

The beam of light never made it past his fingertips.

The force of the blow knocked Lance back a few inches, but he stood his ground, even as the blinding light engulfed him and he closed his eyes against it. He felt like he was on fire, like he had been standing there for hours, and he could feel his strength failing. Then, just as he was sure he was about to give out, the pressure and heat around him released, the white faded from his vision, and he was left stumbling backwards.

He felt something grab him by the shoulders, holding him steady, and he lifted his gaze to see Keith in front of him, his dark violet eyes wide.

Keith. Keith was okay.

Lance felt relief wash over him, finally feeling like he could breathe again. Keith said something that was drowned out by the ringing in Lance’s ears, but he looked worried, so Lance sent him a shaky smile. Keith’s brows furrowed, an indiscernible expression crossing his face.

You idiot, Keith mouthed, reaching up as though he was going to touch Lance’s face. But then he froze, pulling his hand back and looking away, his expression turning stony. Lance didn’t need to follow his gaze to know what he was looking at.

Lance’s mind finally caught up with him and he realized that he was sitting on his knees, with Keith kneeling down in front of him. He felt exhausted to the point that even the slightest motion seemed like an impossibility, and he could see his hands shaking from where they rested on top of his knees.

Keith looked back at him, his eyebrows drawn together in a vulnerable, hopeless expression that looked foreign and unnatural on his face, and Lance decided that he never wanted Keith to look like that again. He reached out and grabbed Keith’s shoulder, and even that small motion made his arm ache horribly, but he paid it no mind.

“I know what we have to do,” he said, squeezing Keith’s shoulder. “Can you keep that thing’s hands away from its eye?”

Keith blinked at him, his mouth dropping open a bit, and then his expression changed, some of the fiery determination Lance had seen before returning to his eyes as he gave Lance a curt nod. He stood back up, pulling Lance with him, and squeezed Lance’s hand for a heartbeat before letting go and facing their attacker.

Keith rushed towards the robot, catching its attention but staying just out of reach as it lunged for him. With it distracted, Lance raised his blaster, breathing out slowly as he focused in on the robot’s eye. He scored a hit on it and the robot recoiled, holding both metallic arms over its face as its eye crackled with electricity.

Keith lunged forward again, but this time the robot merely kicked at him, refusing to lower its hands from its face.

“Come on,” Lance muttered, keeping his blaster trained on it. He wasn’t sure how much longer they had before the thing’s cannon was charged again, but they were running out of time.

Keith seemed to be thinking the same thing, and his movements became more daring. He darted closer and closer in the hopes of getting the robot to lower its guard, even as Lance yelled at him to be careful.

The robot finally took the bait, slamming both of its fists down in front of it in an attack that Keith barely managed to dodge, with ripples of water radiating out from around the attack. Lance took another shot, and another, and both hit their mark, but the robot remained standing and quickly drew one of its arms up to shield itself.

Lance cursed under his breath. Exhaustion was weighing heavily on him, and it was becoming harder and harder to stand. Keith let out a yell of frustration and ran towards the robot again, and Lance felt his blood run cold.

“Keith, stop!” he yelled, but it was too late. The robot swiped at Keith in a heavy blow that knocked him into the wall of the cavern, where he slumped down and lay motionless.

“Keith!” Lance yelled, panic gripping him as he took a step forward. The robot turned to face him and Lance stumbled backward, firing at its eye, but without Keith there to distract it, it was able to block the shots easily. A circle of light flashed around its eye, steadily growing brighter as the air around Lance hummed with electricity. He gritted his teeth. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to hold off another attack like that. He kept his blaster raised, narrowing his eyes. If he was going down, he was going down swinging.

“Hey, ugly!” a voice yelled, just as a small object that looked suspiciously like a boot bounced off the side of the robot’s head. The robot turned towards the sound, giving Lance the distraction he needed. He breathed out and pulled the trigger.

The shot hit its mark. Electricity crackled around the robot’s eye again, but the glow around it didn’t fade, instead burning brighter. Cracks of light split down the robot’s body as the built-up energy searched for an outlet. Lance stumbled backwards, shielding his eyes with his arm as the cavern filled with light. He felt the explosion as much as he heard it; the cavern shuddered beneath him with enough force to knock him off his feet.

When he opened his eyes again, the robot was gone. A few twisted scraps of metal in its place served as the only reminder that it had ever been there at all. Most of what remained of the cavern ceiling had caved in as well, and as Lance watched, more chunks of the dark violet rock fell into the shallow water below.

He unsteadily pulled himself to his feet, taking a step forward.

“Keith,” he tried to yell, but his voice came out as barely more than a whisper. He scanned the cavern, panic threatening to spill over, then caught sight of movement near the wall.

Keith stepped toward the center of the cavern and Lance quickly looked him over, his panic subsiding a bit as he realized that Keith seemed relatively unharmed. Lance let out a huff of breath, wiping the back of his hand against his forehead. Now that the adrenaline was starting to fade, his muscles began to feel like molten lead, and he wasn’t sure how he was still standing.

Keith turned toward him, a streak of moonlight falling across his face, illuminating the concern that tightened his brow.

“We did it,” Lance said with a grin, relief making his voice sound giddy. “Hey, we make a pretty good team.”

Keith blinked in surprise, his features softening, and for the first time, Lance saw Keith smile.

Then everything went dark.


— 

Lieutenant Haxus made his way across the Galra battleship swiftly, dipping his head as he passed other officers in the dimly lit hallways of the ship. He came to a stop in front of the command center, pressing his palm against the door panel, and the door slid open with a whir.

The command center was a large, dark, windowless room, framed on three sides by large computer screens, some of which connected to security cameras on the ship. In the center of the room was a lone figure, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, rows of screens illuminating his silhouette.

“Commander Sendak.” Haxus kneeled down, clasping his hand over his heart and dipping his head. “You wanted to see me?”

Sendak did nothing to acknowledge Haxus’s presence, remaining focused on the many screens that lined the room with his back to the door.

“We’ve received a transmission from a Galra fleet in sector 812,” Sendak said finally, his voice deep and raspy.

“812,” the lieutenant echoed, standing up. “Nexlii? But there hasn’t been a Galra fleet there in years. The last one there was destroyed in a rebel skirmish years ago.”

“Not entirely.” Sendak finally turned to face him, his large, bat-like ears casting a shadow over his face from the light of the computer screens. “One of the sentinels survived and was recently awakened. It sent a video transmission before it was destroyed.”

“Destroyed? By what?”

Sendak gestured towards one of the screens. “See for yourself.”

Haxus stepped towards the screen, his footsteps echoing against the metal floor.

“Impossible,” Haxus murmured. But the figure onscreen’s features were unmistakable— snowy white hair, pointed ears, with small, light blue crescents beneath their eyes. “An Altean?” He turned back to face Sendak. “What does this mean?”

“It means,” Sendak said, baring his teeth in a sinister smile, “that we’re going to pay a visit to sector 812.”

— 

Lance still hadn’t woken up by the time Keith docked the ship in the hangar of the station.

Keith sighed as he unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up, making his way back to the cargo hull. Between the fight with the sentinel and the trek back to the ship, his entire body felt bruised and exhausted, and his leg still exploded with pain every time he put weight on it. But he’d survive. He’d been through worse.

Lance was lying on one of the fold-out makeshift beds in the cargo hull, with Keith’s jacket draped over him.

“Just can’t make this easy on me, can you?” Keith said, poking Lance’s cheek. He swallowed down the worry that threatened to spill over and scooped Lance up, carrying him out of the ship and toward the med bay at the back of the hangar.

The nurse there assured Keith that Lance would be fine, that he was just exhausted and that he’d no doubt be up and about within a few hours. She had made a face when Keith tried to limp out of the med bay, and only allowed him to leave when he promised he’d come back after checking up on something.

Keith leaned against the doorframe of his and Lance’s room, easing some of the pressure on his leg before he made his way to his desk. He pulled open the middle drawer and reached in, taking out the small radio from where it was taped to the top of the drawer. The red light on the side of it was blinking, and Keith sighed, pressing the round button on the center. A small, light blue holographic screen lit up in front of him. 

It was blank for a moment before a ripple of static passed over it and a face appeared onscreen.

“Kolivan,” Keith said. Kolivan returned the greeting, his face hardened into the emotionless mask Keith had grown so used to.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much time,” Kolivan said, his voice distorted by static. “Our scouts have picked up reports of unscheduled Galra activity near your location.”

Keith tensed, narrowing his eyes. “Should I leave?”

Kolivan remained silent for a moment. “No,” he said finally. “Keep trying to find out how much the Garrison knows. The fleet is still a few days from your location, I’ll send a warning if they get closer.”

Keith dipped his head in acknowledgement.

“Remain vigilant,” Kolivan said, fixing Keith with a piercing stare. “Don’t let your guard down, and don't lose sight of the mission.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “Good luck.”

The screen flickered for a moment before disappearing.

Chapter Text

The nightmares were becoming more frequent.

When Keith opened his eyes, he was standing outside the Garrison station with the cool morning breeze whipping at his hair and clothes. The morning light bathed the scene in a hazy golden glow, but Keith couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong.

The ground shuddered beneath his feet, followed by a low, threatening hum. A large shadow fell over the ground, slowly creeping towards the Garrison station.

Keith turned his gaze to the sky and his blood ran cold.

Lines of massive ebony starships blotted out the sun, the largest fleet Keith had ever seen. And there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop them.

He charged towards the station, but no matter how far he ran, it remained just out of reach. The air around him prickled with electricity. Sharp beams of light burst from the battleships’ cannons, ripping the sky in two. Keith screamed until his throat felt raw, but he couldn’t stop them. He couldn’t do anything. 

The ground beneath his feet was torn away, and everything faded to black.

When Keith opened his eyes again, he was on board a Galra battleship. A towering figure stood a few paces away, their face obscured by shadow but their glowing gold eyes burning through the darkness. When they spoke, their voice seemed to echo from everywhere.

There is nowhere you can go that I won’t find you.

Keith took a step back, his heart pounding against his chest. Cruel laughter echoed around him as an invisible force slammed into him, pushing him back.

The scene shifted, and Keith was standing in a line of Galra soldiers. He looked down and found a blaster in his hands and the Galra Empire insignia printed on the chestplate of his armor.

No, he tried to scream, but his voice remained silent, and his feet marched forward against his will.

You can’t outrun who you are, the voice continued. It is your destiny to destroy everything you touch.

“Get out of my head!” Keith snarled, finally breaking himself out of the trance. The blaster slipped from his hands as he fell backwards. For a moment he was left plummeting into darkness, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

When he finally dared to open them, he was standing back in the hallways of the Garrison station. But his momentary relief dissipated as a shot rang out, and he narrowly managed to duck beneath the laser blast aimed at his head. He reached for the dagger hidden in his jacket and it transformed into a curved ebony sword in his grip. A second shot rang out and Keith swung the blade in front of him, blocking the blast, then charged forwards in pursuit of his attacker.

He rounded a corner and skidded to a halt when he came face-to-face with dozens of robotic Galra sentries. He cursed under his breath, quickly embedding his blade in the chest of the nearest sentry before ducking back behind the corner as the rest of the sentries opened fire. But the adjacent hallway was already filled with a second onslaught of sentries, effectively blocking off his escape route. He lunged forward with a snarl, slicing the first robot in half and then slamming the hilt of his blade against the second’s head. He shoved his way through the swarm, steadily cutting down lines of sentries, but no matter how many he took out, their numbers never seemed to dwindle.

“Keith!” a familiar voice called out.

“Lance?” Keith called back. “Where are you?”

“Keith!” Lance said again, his voice becoming more urgent.

“I’m coming!” Keith yelled, letting out a growl of frustration as he sliced at the sentries blocking his path. “Just— hold on!” But for every sentry he cut down, five more seemed to take its place, leaving him stranded in the midst of a sea of metal and laser fire.

“Keith, wake up!”

What?

Keith blinked, the scene before him distorting as something shook him awake.

He opened his eyes and heard someone breathe in sharply. The weight on his shoulders disappeared.

“…Keith?” a familiar voice asked, but it sounded strange; uncertain.

Keith looked up. Lance was standing near the edge of Keith’s bed, but everything about his posture and expression was off. He looked… scared, with his eyes wide, his brows furrowed, and his hands clutched close to his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked, sitting up. Panic swelled in his chest as he tried to put together how much of what had just happened had been a dream and how much had been real.

“You—” Lance hesitated, looking away and biting his lip. “Noth—nothing,” he said finally. “You just… you were having a nightmare.”

“Oh,” Keith said, leaning back a bit. There was something else bothering him, something that didn’t feel right, but his mind was too foggy for him to put together what it was.

He was so tired. He felt like he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all.

“Time ’s it?” he mumbled, sinking back into the sheets.

“Half past one.”

Keith hummed in acknowledgement, rolling onto his side and covering his ears with his blanket.

“Hey, Keith?” Lance asked after a moment, his voice sounding small and strained.

“Mm?"

“Can I trust you?”

Something in the back of Keith’s mind warned him that that was an odd question, that he was missing something important, but he was too tired to make sense of it.

“Mmhm.”

“Okay,” Lance said quietly, as Keith’s eyes slipped closed and the world faded into nothing.


—


Lance finally remembered where he’d seen Keith before. 

Bright gold eyes burned into his memory, the same eyes he’d seen chasing the rogue ship many nights ago. He was now sure of two things— that he hadn’t been dreaming that night, and that Keith wasn’t who he said he was.

The video on Lance’s tablet played silently as he waited outside of Commander Shirogane’s office. His hands tightened around the edges of it as the camera swept over the side of the dark alien starship, lingering on the strange insignia printed on it. Even now, with the entire planet between him and the ship, he couldn’t stop the chill that ran down his spine.

The camera shifted to Keith, and his unease grew. 

“Who are you?” Lance muttered under his breath.

“Lance?”

Lance jolted at the sound of his name, his head snapping towards the voice.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Commander Shirogane said with an apologetic smile. “You said there was something you needed to show me?”

“I— yeah.” Lance cleared his throat, quickly standing from the bench and trying to regain his composure. Shiro nodded, motioning for Lance to follow as he retreated back into his office.

Commander Shirogane was a tall, broad man with an equally large presence. He had slick black hair with a shock of white running through it, and a prosthetic right arm that Lance knew came as a result of the Kerberos mission accident. Lance had looked up to Shiro for years; even before Lance had met him, Shiro had been his personal hero, and Shiro’s accomplishments were what had convinced Lance to try to join the Galaxy Garrison in the first place.

Now that Lance knew Shiro personally, his respect had only grown. Shiro was one of the few high-ranking officials in the Garrison that treated everyone with respect, regardless of their rank, and that was what had driven Lance to seek him out now.

But now that he was here, Lance found himself hesitating. 

Shiro took a seat behind his desk, motioning for Lance to sit across from him before raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Lance’s gaze fell back down to the tablet in his hands. The video had ended, leaving nothing but a black screen with a circular replay button in the center. 

He had one of the greatest discoveries of all time in his hands— proof of intelligent life outside Earth. He would make history for sharing this. He’d have fame, fortune, glory— he’d have everything he ever wanted.

But Keith had asked him not to tell anyone.

They’d gotten into an argument over it earlier. Keith kept saying that it was dangerous, that they were messing with something they didn’t truly understand. Lance hadn’t promised anything. And now he’d come to realize that the only thing he truly knew about Keith was that he was hiding something. He had no idea who Keith really was, or what his intentions were.

But despite everything… Lance trusted him.

He let out a sigh of resignation, then swiped his finger across the screen before he turned it around to face Shiro. 

“We found some kind of weird plant thing while we were out on the scouting mission,” he said.

“I… see,” Shiro said, leaning forward to get a better look and rubbing his hand over his mouth. “Thank you for bringing this to me, but… why exactly couldn’t this wait until morning? You said it was urgent.”

“Oh, uh…” Lance cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, we also found these big, skeletal bird-alien things that popped out of the ground, but I didn’t get any pictures of those because they were kinda trying to kill us. Which is how Keith hurt his leg, and how we found the vines. Sir.” Lance grimaced as he finished, waiting for Shiro to ask him to get Keith to confirm his story, or dismiss it entirely.

Shiro raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, well… I’ll let the higher ups know, and send out a warning to stay away from the area until we know what we’re dealing with. Is there anything else?”

Lance bit his lip, tapping his fingers against the side of the tablet as he looked away. “Nope,” he lied, popping the “p” sound and sending Shiro a forced grin as he stood up. “That’s everything. Thanks, Shiro.”

“Alright. Try to get some sleep, will you?”

“Will do,” Lance assured him, giving a small salute as he backed out of the door. Once it slid closed, he ran a hand through his hair, clutching his tablet close to his chest. “Ah, man,” he muttered, his shoulders slumping as he made his way down the vacant hallway. “What am I doing ?”


—


It had been two days since Keith had last heard from Kolivan. To say that he was on edge would be an understatement.

To make things worse, his nightmares were becoming unrelenting, leaving him sleep deprived and unable to escape the possibility of a Galra invasion even while asleep.

And on top of everything else, Lance had been giving him these weird… looks lately. Keith couldn’t count how many times he’d turned to find Lance watching him, only for Lance to quickly drop his gaze when he realized he’d been caught. But Keith wasn’t sure if that was actually something he should be worried about or if he was just being paranoid, and he had enough to worry about already, so he pushed it to the back of his mind.

It was half past nine when Keith finally made it back to his and Lance’s shared room. Knowing that Lance had the night shift in the observatory, Keith pulled the small radio out of the middle drawer of his desk, his pulse quickening as he saw the red light on the side blinking. He took a deep breath to compose himself, his thumb hovering over the button in the center.

He was just about to press it when the door behind him slid open.

Keith whirled around, hastily stuffing the radio into his pocket. Lance mumbled a quick greeting as he entered the room, one arm wrapped precariously around a messy stack of papers and his badge in his other hand.

“I thought you had the night shift,” Keith said, trying to keep his voice casual, his fingers tightening around the radio in his pocket.

“Nah, Kinkade offered to cover for me,” Lance said, sitting on the edge of his bed and kicking his boots off. His brows furrowed as he finally met Keith’s gaze. “Hey, are you okay, man? No offense, but you look terrible.”

Keith frowned, approaching the mirror beside his bed and giving himself a once-over. He did look bad. His skin was paler than normal, his black hair fell around his face in messy, unkempt clumps, and there were dark lines beneath his eyes. He sighed, rubbing his hand beneath his eye. “I’m fine. Just… haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

He turned back to find Lance giving him that… look again, with his head tilted slightly to the side, as though he was trying to figure something out.

“I’m going to get some fresh air,” Keith said quickly, tugging on his jacket collar as he started for the door.

“Keith, wait.”

Keith’s pace faltered, and he turned to face Lance.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Lance said quietly. “I mean, we’re like, space ranger partners now.” His mouth twitched into a small smile. “I know I don’t know you that well, but if something’s bothering you… I’m here, you know?”

Keith felt warmth bloom in his chest, and he gave Lance the best smile he could manage. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll… keep that in mind.”

He turned back towards the door and his smile fell, the warmth in his chest fading into something cold and empty. His shoulders slumped and his gaze fell to the ground as he heard the door slide closed behind him.


—


Keith was met with the cool night air as he stepped out onto the rooftops of the Garrison station. The moonlight reflected off of the surface of the metal platforms as the wind swept over them, tugging on the thin metal rods that towered above him. Keith pulled his radio out of his pocket, taking a deep breath before tapping on the center button. The florescent blue screen lit up in front of him, showing nothing but static.

Keith waited, growing more anxious by the second, but nothing cut through the noise. He felt something cold settle in his chest and let out the breath he had been holding, sinking down to his knees. What if the Empire had found their base? What if he was the only one left? What if he was the only thing standing between the Empire and—

Keith pressed the palms of his hands against his temples to try to break himself out of his spiral.

I can do this, he assured himself.

But when he closed his eyes, all he could see was himself standing alone against the full force of the Galra Empire, with nothing but a sword at his side and the weight of the universe resting on his shoulders.


—


Knowing what he had to do didn’t make it any easier.

Keith slumped against the wall in front of his and Lance’s room. He glared at the ground, rubbing his thumb over his index finger in concentration as he rehearsed the words he knew he had to say over and over in his mind until he felt like he could recite them by heart. A few cadets passed by in the hallway and gave him strange looks, but Keith was past the point of caring.

“Okay,” he said, standing up and pulling his badge out of his pocket, clenching his other hand into a fist. He could do this. He was a warrior, he made a living out of staring death in the face, so he was definitely—

The door slid open in front of him and Keith’s courage dissipated like smoke.

—Definitely completely out of his element.

Lance didn’t look up as Keith entered. His cheek was smushed into the palm of his hand as he sat on his bed with a laptop open in front of him, the light from the screen illuminating his face.

Keith stood awkwardly in the doorway, wringing his hands until Lance finally looked up, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Keith ducked his head and made his way towards his bed, fidgeting with the collar of his jacket.

He blinked. Lying on top of his pillow was a familiar headset, attached to a small radio-like object.

“What…”

“It’s a Walkman,” Lance said. Keith looked up and Lance gave him a small smile. “My mamá gave it to me because I used to have trouble sleeping. Too much noise in my head, you know? I thought maybe it’d help with your nightmares.”

Keith stared at him, his chest suddenly tight. “Are you sure it’s alright?” he asked.

Lance waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. You need it more than I do, man. Just… be careful with it, alright?”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “Thank you.” He sat on the edge of his bed, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of his jacket, unable to meet Lance’s gaze. “Lance… there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Hm?”

Keith bit his lip. He could see his hands shaking in front of him. “Well, it’s actually… it’s something I have to show you. Just promise you won’t freak out or anything, okay? No matter what, I’m still me.”

“Oh,” Lance said quietly. “Okay.”

Keith closed his eyes, holding his breath. He felt a tingling sensation beneath his skin that spread to the surface, and his hands twitched slightly as he felt like something had pricked his fingertips. When he opened his eyes, the room seemed lighter, the skin on his hands had turned into a deep lilac color, and his fingernails had transformed into sharp claws.

Lance, to his credit, didn’t freak out. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all, and Keith couldn’t bring himself to look up to gauge his reaction.

“I’m not human,” Keith said. “I’m Galra. And I’m not— I’m not the only one. There are others like me, but most of them aren’t good people. They’re dangerous. But no matter what happens, I need you to know that I’m on your side.”

“No matter what happens?” Lance repeated slowly. “What’s going to happen?”

“I’m…” Keith clenched his hands into fists. “I’m not supposed to say. I’m not technically supposed to tell you any of this.” He sighed, dipping his head even more. “Hopefully nothing. Hopefully I’m just overreacting. But if I’m not… I need you to trust me. That’s why I had to tell you the truth.”

“Alright.”

Keith finally looked up, blinking at Lance incredulously. “‘Alright’? That’s it? But I’m—”

“You’re still Keith,” Lance interrupted. “You’re still just my annoying, know-it-all roommate who thinks he’s better than everyone else just because he’s got cool hair and can fly a starship like nobody’s business.” Lance gave Keith a teasing smile, and some of the tension in Keith’s shoulders fell away.

“You’re still my friend,” Lance continued, his tone becoming more sober. “You saved my life, what, like, five times in the span of a single day, and more importantly, you didn’t rat me out when you caught me putting gum on Iverson’s chair.”

“How is that more important—”

“The point is, like you said, you’re still just you. Like, okay, admittedly, finding out that my roommate is secretly a purple alien with giant fuzzy ears and glowy yellow eyes is a bit of a shock, and I don’t know you that well, but… I know enough. I know that you’re a good guy, and that’s enough for me.”

“Oh,” Keith said quietly. Silence fell between them for a moment, then Keith looked up again, a smirk forming on his lips. “You think my hair’s cool?”

Lance blinked at him, his mouth dropping open and his face steadily growing redder. “I— I never said that.”

“You did so.”

“Nope. Nuh uh. Don’t remember, didn’t happen.” Lance crossed his arms over his chest indignantly.

Keith shook his head, but he couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossibly handsome?” Lance asked with a wink.

Keith felt his face heat up and he looked away, pretending to consider it. “I guess,” he said with a noncommittal shrug, before meeting Lance’s gaze and smirking.

Lance’s face immediately flushed bright red and he looked away, covering his face with his hands and muttering something that sounded like “oh my god.”

Keith allowed himself a small self-satisfied smile, then pulled his legs up on the bed and retrieved Lance’s Walkman from where it rested near his pillow. For a moment, he considered trying to give it back, but the possibility of a good night’s rest convinced him to hang on to it. He sunk down into his bed, pulling the covers up to his chest and slipping the headset over his ears. He closed his eyes as soft, upbeat music started to play.

He was still on edge, and he doubted that anything short of the complete dismantling of the Galra Empire would be able to fix that. But it was as though a weight had been lifted off of his chest, making it that much easier to breathe.

For the first time, he didn’t feel so… alone.

He’d had Kolivan and the rest of the Blade of Marmora, of course, but he knew he’d never be anything more than a means to an end to them. And before that… he didn’t want to think about that.

This felt different.

Keith rolled over so that he was facing the wall, clutching the Walkman close to his chest and trying to push away the worries that constantly threatened to spill over and consume him. Whatever comes, I can handle it. Everything will work out okay, he told himself.

And for the first time, he thought that maybe he believed it.


—


Commander Sendak stepped up to the dimly lit bridge of the Galra battleship, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. A small, dark violet planet covered with thin magenta lines woven together in a web-like fashion hung suspended in the darkness beyond the windows of the ship. 

Sendak’s mouth pulled into a scowl as he reached the upper deck of the bridge. Since he’d received the transmission from the sentinel during a mission, he had only been able to bring a single battleship and its crew with him to Nexlii. It was much less than he’d like, but he couldn’t afford to wait for reinforcements and risk allowing the Altean to escape.

“Commander,” Lieutenant Haxus greeted him, dipping his head before going to stand at Sendak’s side. “What’s our plan of action?”

“Contact the station on the planet.”

Haxus blinked at him, his eyes widening in surprise. “Sir?”

“As much as I’d love to go in and burn the planet to the ground, with our numbers, a full-on assault is too risky. We don’t know what kind of weapons this station has.” Sendak took a step towards the edge of the deck, unclasping his hands and gripping the railing. “Besides, the last thing we need is to provoke another planet into raising its flag and joining the rebellion.”

Haxus gave a curt nod, starting towards the stairwell at the edge of the deck. “I’ll shut down the signal jammer around the planet and contact the station right away.”

“Haxus. One more thing.”

Haxus paused, turning back to face Sendak.

“Emperor Zarkon would prefer the Altean be captured alive, but you know what’s at stake here. If he tries to resist…” Sendak’s lips curled, baring his teeth. “Kill him, and anyone else that gets in your way.”


—


Lance drummed his fingers against his desk as he gazed out of the observatory windows, half listening as Iverson launched into another tirade as the fifth radio test ended in failure. Communications had been down for a day and a half, leaving the station unable to contact Earth, which was setting everyone on edge.

Lance sighed, dialing in the Garrison access codes on his computer for the sixth time as Iverson called for another test. The rest of the crew working in the observatory let out a resounding groan, and Lance couldn’t blame them; they’d been stuck up here for the last few hours and had nothing to show for it. Lance propped his head on his hands, his hopes of getting out before dark fading as the sun began to dip beneath the horizon.

“Sir, I think we have something,” one of the cadets announced. Lance glanced over his shoulder briefly, then reached for the headset tucked away behind his computer. “We’re receiving a transmission. But it’s… it’s not from Earth.”

“Put it through,” Iverson demanded.

“Yessir.” The cadet tapped a button on their keyboard and a crackle of static echoed around the room. A few moments passed, then a deep, rough voice cut through the static.

“This is Commander Sendak of the Galra Empire.”

Lance froze, the headset he had been reaching for slipping from his hands and clattering against the desk.

“My associates and I are in pursuit of a shape-shifting fugitive. We have reason to believe he has taken refuge on this planet, and request that you allow us to search your station. If you do not comply, you will be labeled as accomplices and dealt with as such.”

Iverson snorted. “You can’t honestly expect me to believe—” His words were cut off as a shadow fell over the observatory.

Lance slowly looked up to the windows, his heart pounding against his throat.

Just outside lay a massive dark ebony starship, the same ship Lance had seen before on the other side of the planet, the same ship that had started to haunt his nightmares.

But unlike the other ship, this one was still in full commission.

Lance stood up before he realized what he was doing, running toward the door with a single thought echoing through his mind.

He had to find Keith.


—


Lance was breathless by the time he made it back to his dorm, and he cursed silently as he found it empty. He mentally ran through a list of all the places Keith could be at this time of night as he dashed back down the hall, so engrossed in his thoughts that he nearly ran into Shiro as he rounded the corner.

“Whoa, what’s the rush?” Shiro asked, sidestepping out of Lance’s path.

“Shiro, do you know where Keith is?”

Shiro frowned, his brows furrowing at Lance’s tone. “I think he was assigned to a scouting mission.”

“Dammit,” Lance muttered. “Do you know when he’s getting back?”

Before Shiro could answer, a booming voice cut in over the station intercom.

“All personnel report to the hangar immediately.”

Lance took a few steps back, a rough, desperate plan beginning to form in his mind.

“Lance, what’s going on?” Shiro demanded, but Lance could only shake his head in response before he turned away. He sprinted down the hall in the opposite direction of the hangar, his heart pounding against his chest, ignoring as Shiro called after him.

His progress was stalled as swarms of people flooded the hallways, whispering to each other in confusion. He hastily weaved his way through the crowd, muttering a rushed apology every time he accidentally slammed into someone and ignoring the strange looks people gave him. He had almost made it to the end of the hall when the station alarms went off, filling the hallways with red light and deafening sirens.

The crowd began to thin as Lance turned the corner, and he broke into a run the rest of the way to the armory. He unlocked the door with his badge and dull blue fluorescent lights flickered on overhead, illuminating the small supply shed. Lance’s gaze flitted over the lines of blasters before lingering on a pair of small, arc-shaped laser pistols lying on the table at the back of the shed. He quickly snatched them up, tucking one under each side of his jacket and clipping them to his belt.

By the time he returned to the hallway, the alarms had fallen silent, leaving the station eerily quiet. His footsteps echoed along the empty corridors as he made his way to the elevator, and with every step he took, his sense of unease grew.

He tapped the button for the second floor, then stepped inside and leaned against the metal walls as the elevator made its descent. He reached for his blaster as the doors slid open again with a soft ding, and drew in a deep breath before stepping out. He crept down the familiar corridor, careful to keep his footsteps quiet.

“Is this everyone?” a loud, gruff voice demanded, echoing from further down the hall.

Lance slowed down and kept low to the ground as he rounded the corner, holding his breath as he moved towards the deck overlooking the hangar.

“There’s still the crew of a scouting mission, but they should be getting back any minute,” Iverson’s voice responded.

Lance lowered himself down onto his hands and knees, inching towards the edge of the deck and peering down at the scene below.

Iverson and the staff of the Garrison station stood facing the Galra commander, a tall alien with  large, bat-like ears, a bright crimson robotic left eye, and a face that seemed to be etched into a permanent scowl. He was backed by a legion of a few Galra warriors, hundreds of robotic soldiers, and a few drones that hovered in the air over the army.

“We’re not leaving until we have what we came for,” the Galra commander growled before he turned to address his legion. “Search every corner of this station.”

Iverson’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, but as the robotic sentries swarmed the station, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The triangular drones rose into the air, blue light emanating from them as they scanned the upper deck. Lance scrambled backward, barely managing to duck behind the wall before the light passed over it.

He leaned back, running his hand through his hair as he weighed his options. There weren’t many; attacking the Galra would be futile and would put the rest of the staff in danger, and his chances of making it out of the station without being spotted were slim to none. But if he made it back to the observatory, he might be able to contact Keith and warn him before it was too late. That was, of course, assuming that the station’s communication system was online. It was a long shot, but it was the only plan he had, and he was running out of time.

Lance waited until the drone was out of sight before he started back down the hallway, deciding that taking the stairwell was his best bet. It would take more time and give the Galra a chance to get ahead of him, but trying to get to the elevators while the station was crawling with sentries would be too risky.

There were already a few sentries patrolling the halls near the stairwell by the time Lance got there, and he took care to slip by undetected before he began the steep trek up to the observatory. But he had only made it halfway to the fourth floor when he rounded the corner to find himself staring down the barrel of a blaster.

“Whoa,” he said, taking a step back and quickly raising his hands in surrender. “I come in peace?”

The owner of the blaster, a faceless Galra sentry, motioned for him to start walking back down the stairwell. He complied with a reluctant sigh, keeping his hands raised and biting the inside of his cheek.

Great, he thought bitterly, now what?

The Galra sentry steered him towards the elevator on the third floor, and Lance kept his head lowered, trying to formulate a plan to escape.

A loud, metallic crash sounded from the adjacent hallway. Lance looked up just in time to see what remained of a Galra sentry slam into the wall before landing in a motionless heap on the ground, electricity sparking from a deep cut in its chest. The sentry following Lance shoved him aside roughly enough to knock him off balance, and he slumped against the wall. Quick footsteps echoed down the adjacent hallway, and the sentry stepped forward, raising its blaster.

Keith stepped out from behind the corner, his eyes widening as he found himself face to face with a Galra sentry. Lance’s heart leapt to his throat, time seemed to slow, and a single shot rang out.

For a moment, everything was still. Then the sentry slowly started to lean to the left, its blaster slipping from its hands as it finally fell, electricity sparking from the hole the laser blast had left in its head.

Lance tucked his pistol back under his jacket as Keith crossed the distance between them, offering Lance his hand.

“You have to get out of here. They’re after you,” Lance said urgently. Keith blinked at him, his brows pulling together as he shook his head.

“It’s not me they’re after.”

Lance stared at him blankly. “Uh, what? Dude, they’re looking for a shape-shifting alien. Who else could that be?”

Keith ignored his question, instead grabbing Lance’s hand and pulling him up. “We need to get to the hangar,” he said, releasing Lance and taking off towards the stairwell.

“The hangar?” Lance repeated incredulously. “That’s, like, the last place we wanna be right now.”

“We have to get out of here, and we’ll never escape them on foot.”

“We need a ship?”

“Something like that."

“How are we supposed to get past— wait, how did you even get through there in the first place?”

“I just slipped away when they weren’t paying attention.”

“Slipped away? With an entire army looking for you?”

“I told you, it’s not me they’re after.”

“Why are we running from them if they’re not—” Lance breathed in sharply as realization clicked into place. “ Me? Why would they be after—” He was cut off as Keith spun around, clamping his hand over Lance’s mouth. Lance shot Keith a glare but stilled as the sound of metallic footsteps echoed from a neighboring hallway.

“I’ll explain everything later, right now just shut up and trust me, alright?” Keith pulled his hand away as the footsteps faded into the distance, then started off again without waiting for a response.

Lance had to jog to catch up, and he followed Keith for a while in silence. But his mind was buzzing with too many questions and not enough answers, and the silence was starting to feel suffocating, so it wasn’t long before he blurted out the first thing he could think of.

“Speaking of shape-shifting aliens,” he started, ignoring Keith’s huff of exasperation, “so, like, can all Galra shapeshift?”

“No. Only me.”

Lance frowned, tilting his head. “And… you don’t find that odd?”

“Never really thought about it,” Keith said shortly, in a tone that suggested that the conversation was over.

Lance let out a sigh of resignation. He looked up as they passed through the residential hall, hesitating as his eyes caught on the doors lining the corridor.

“What is it?” Keith asked impatiently, his pace slowing as he looked over his shoulder.

“Is it alright if I pick something up?”

Keith frowned, quickly scanning the hallway and biting his lip. “Fine, but make it quick.”

Lance dipped his head, then jogged up to his and Keith’s shared room and unlocked the door. Keith followed after him, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest as Lance ducked inside. Lance snatched up his small dark blue messenger bag from where it lay near his bed and slung it over his shoulder, then clambered onto his bed and quickly unclipped the photos hanging on the board above it. He shuffled them into a stack before carefully tucking them into the bag, then jumped down and snatched his Walkman from where it rested on Keith’s desk before heading for the door.

“Ready?” Keith asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. Lance nodded and Keith pushed off of the door, starting back down the hall.

They walked the rest of the way down to the first floor in silence, careful to avoid the sentries patrolling the station. Once they came to the entrance to the hangar, Lance followed Keith’s example and kept close to the walls, slowly creeping towards the end of the hallway.

“Alright, now what?” Lance whispered as he peered out into the hangar. The size of the army there had diminished, but the Galra commander, five of the Galra warriors, and about three dozen sentries remained, standing near the center of the space. “We’ll never make it to the ships without getting caught.”

“We don’t need a ship, we just need something fast.”

“How’re we gonna get out of here without a ship?”

“We have a ship. My ship. We’ll never be able to outrun them in one of those garbage heaps. But we need a way to get to it, and fast.”

Lance narrowed his eyes as he scanned over the lines of vehicles. “I think I know just the thing,” he said, nodding towards the small red hoverbike tucked away in the corner.

Keith followed his gaze, and Lance thought he saw a small smirk form on Keith’s lips.

“How are we gonna get over there?” Lance asked.

“We make a run for it,” Keith said, taking a step forward.

“What? Whoa, hold up.” Lance grabbed Keith’s arm, pulling him back. “These guys want to capture me, right? Maybe we can use that to our advantage.”

Keith’s eyes darkened, and he looked away, his lips pressing into a thin line. “They want you dead, one way or another. It would just be more... convenient for them if they can capture you first.”

“Oh,” Lance said, his voice cracking a bit. “Alright. Okay. Cool. Cool cool cool.”

“Lance, stop freaking out.”

“I’m not freaking out!” Lance said, his voice several octaves higher than normal. “I’m fine. Totally fine. Just, you know, an entire army of aliens out to kill me, no biggie. Man, what did I ever even do to these guys?”

“You’re freaking out.”

“Totally not. Totally cool. Cool as a cucumber. Let’s do this,” Lance said, giving Keith a quick salute.

“Count of three?” Keith asked.

Lance gave a curt nod, and Keith took a deep breath.

“One, two… three.”

Keith caught Lance’s arm as they entered the hangar, and they hurriedly skirted around the Garrison staff. Lance kept his head lowered, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. His heart pounded against his throat and he grabbed Keith’s hand, squeezing it as they made it to the front of the crowd.

Okay, Lance thought, taking a deep, shaky breath. We’re already a third of the way to the bike. We can do this.

The air around him seemed to drop ten degrees, and he looked up just as the Galra commander’s eyes locked with his.

All at once, the hangar fell into chaos. The Galra commander yelled something that was quickly drowned out by the sound of laser fire, and Keith lurched forward, dragging Lance with him.

“Forget the bike, the garbage will do,” Keith growled, pulling Lance onto the nearest transport vehicle, which was little more than a moving platform with railings and a control panel. They ducked behind the panel to shield themselves from the incoming fire as Keith hastily ran through the startup procedures.

The screen remained dark, and Keith cursed, slamming his fist against the panel. “They must have the vehicles on lockdown.”

Lance unclipped one of his blasters from his belt and aimed it over the side of the panel, shooting down the nearest sentries and stunning one of the Galra warriors. “I don’t think they can lock down the bike,” he said, quickly ducking back behind the panel as a laser blast grazed the edge of it. “I’ve been able to take it out after hours before.”

“After them!” the Galra commander’s booming voice commanded, and Keith and Lance leapt off of the transport. Keith grabbed Lance’s hand again as they sprinted towards the bike, using the rest of the transport vehicles lining the side of the hangar as cover. Lance used his free hand to shoot down any sentries that tried to follow them.

Only three more transports stood between them and the bike. They were so close—

Lance glanced back over his shoulder, stunning another Galra warrior as they leapt over one of the transports and lunged for him. Keith stopped dead in his tracks, and Lance nearly lost his balance as he ran into him.

In front of them stood the Galra commander, his mouth pulled into a furious snarl, his natural and mechanical eyes glowing gold and crimson in the dim light. He towered a few feet over them, and up close Lance could see that his left forearm was mechanical, connected to his shoulder by a crackling beam of glowing violet light.

Keith fell into a defensive stance, his ebony sword appearing in his hand in a flash of light, and he used his free hand to push Lance behind him protectively.

“Out of my way, human,” the Galra commander snarled, taking a step forward.

“I’m no human,” Keith said, and even from where Lance stood, he could see Keith’s appearance shift. Keith’s ears became large and catlike, the tips of his black hair became tinted with dark magenta, and the skin on his hands turned a deep lilac color. “I’m here under orders from the Emperor himself, and you’re interfering.”

The Galra commander’s natural eye widened before narrowing into a slit. “You don’t honestly expect me to believe that, do you? I know what you are. You’re nothing but a disgrace to your own blood.”

“Worth a shot,” Keith muttered, and Lance felt him squeeze his hand. “I’ll hold him off,” Keith said, quietly enough that only Lance could hear. “Get out of here. My ship is—”

“Forget it,” Lance snapped before Keith could finish. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Lance—” Keith started, but cut himself off as the Galra commander lunged for them. Lance yanked Keith to the side as the commander’s mechanical fist slammed into the ground.  The commander swung at Keith again, and Keith was barely able to block the blow on the blade of his sword, leaving the two of them locked in a battle of strength that Lance knew Keith couldn’t win. Lance aimed his blaster at the commander, but before he could pull the trigger, he heard a click and felt something cold settle against the back of his neck.

“Don’t move,” a voice behind him commanded, dripping with ice. Lance glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of one of the Galra warriors standing behind him with a blaster in hand. Lance gritted his teeth. He could see Keith’s strength failing. If he didn’t do something—

A shot rang out and the weight at the back of Lance’s neck disappeared. The Galra warrior behind him let out a yelp, recoiling and then crumpling to the ground. Another shot connected with the Galra commander’s shoulder, and he let out a cry of pain, his strength faltering enough for Keith to throw him off.

The commander whirled on his attacker. Lance followed his gaze to Shiro, who stood in the center of the hangar with a fallen Galra sentry at his feet and its gun in his hands.

“How dare you—” the Galra commander snarled. Keith used the momentary distraction to slip away and dashed towards Lance. “ No! Don’t let them get away!” the commander’s voice howled.

“What about Shiro? What about everyone else?” Lance demanded as Keith grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the bike.

“The best thing we can do for them is to get out of here and lead the Galra away from them,” Keith said. He hoisted himself over the side of the bike and Lance followed, cursing how despite everything his cheeks grew warm as he wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist. The engine rumbled to life and the bike shot forward, then swung sharply left between the hangar doors as the Galra commander’s cry of outrage echoed through the hangar.

Lance looked over his shoulder as the bike sped away from the hangar, leaving clouds of displaced sand in its wake. The wind ripped at his hair and clothes as the bike flew across the violet landscape. “Oh, man,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse. “We— we actually made it.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Keith said, his voice muffled by the hum of the engine. “We’re not out of this yet.”

Lance shifted his gaze towards the sky, where the Galra battleship hung silhouetted by moonlight, and shivered. He flinched as a beam of light flew past him, narrowly missing his shoulder, and Keith cursed and jerked the bike to the right. Several more laser blasts trailed after the bike, scorching the ground and ricocheting off of the crystal towers that dotted the landscape. In the rearview mirror, Lance caught a glimpse of several Galra drones hovering in the air behind them. He gritted his teeth and carefully swung his legs over the bike so that he was facing backwards, then unclipped one of the blasters from his belt, using his other hand to keep himself steady. He fired at the drones in quick succession and three of the shots hit their mark, sending the small, triangle-shaped drones careening to the ground in smoke. The bike lurched beneath him to avoid the return fire and Lance let out a shriek as he slipped off, but before he could fall, something grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him back.

“Thanks,” he said sheepishly, steadying himself. Keith merely grunted in response.

Lance raised his blaster again and shot down two more of the drones, but his attention shifted as the dark battleship started creeping towards them. Several smaller ships broke off from it, heading towards them in a swarm.

“Uh, Keith?”

“I see them,” Keith growled. “Hold on.”

Lance shot down the remaining drones and turned back in his seat, hugging Keith’s waist as the bike picked up speed. He blinked.

“Keith.”

“Yeah?”

“Is that a cliff in front of us?”

“Yup.” Keith’s wrist dipped forward on the handle and the bike shot forward.

“Are you out of your mind!?”

“Just shut up and trust me!”

The air around them filled with the deafening roar of a hundred engines, and Lance looked back as the swarm of Galra ships descended on them. He unwrapped one arm from Keith’s waist and aimed his blaster at the ships tailing them, but the shots flicked off of them as harmlessly as rain against a windshield.

Lance lowered his blaster, sucking in a deep breath. “Sure hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Yeah, me too,” Keith said, his voice barely audible above the noise.

Lance’s arms tightened around Keith and he buried his face against the back of Keith’s shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut as the bike plummeted off the side of the cliff.

He heard the hum of the Galra ships passing above them over the rush of wind against his ears and dared to open his eyes, instantly regretting it. The ground beneath them was drawing closer and closer and Lance let out a bloodcurdling scream, his nails digging into the hem of Keith’s jacket as he braced himself for the bike to slam into the ground. But right at the last moment, their momentum shifted as Keith wrenched the controls upward, pulling the bike level with the ground.

“Are we dead yet?” Lance asked, his voice cracking.

“Not yet. Can you stop trying to break me in half?”

“Sorry,” Lance mumbled, loosening his grip around Keith’s waist. He turned his gaze skyward, watching as the Galra ships flew over the edge of the cliff like a flock of giant mechanical birds.

Keith steered the bike to the right, heading to where the cliff face merged into a steep ravine. He slowed the bike as they entered the ravine, and Lance let his eyes trail up the steep, rocky cliffs that surrounded them. The only sound came from the echoing hum of the engine and the eerie, distant sound of wind passing over the tip of the ravine.

“Think we lost them?” Lance asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Hope so.” Keith pulled the bike to a stop as the ravine grew narrower. “We’ll have to continue on foot from here.” He cut the engine and Lance untangled his arms from around Keith’s waist, his ears ringing as he quickly ran his hands through his wind tousled hair.

Keith lowered himself off of the bike and pulled a small mechanical disk from the pocket of his jacket. He held it up in front of him and a ball of light appeared above it, hovering for a moment before flying out into the path ahead of them, illuminating the shadowy ravine. Lance tried to follow Keith, but his limbs may as well have been made of jelly, and he only managed to take a single step away from the bike before his legs buckled beneath him and left him to fall face-first into the sand.

“You okay?” Keith asked.

“Just peachy,” Lance grumbled, sending him a thumbs-up without bothering to lift his head. He sat up and dusted himself off, squinting as he peered into the darkness surrounding them. “How much farther from here?”

Keith glanced back down the ravine, tapping the mechanical disk against his thigh. “Not far. Shouldn’t take more than a quarter varga.”

“A quarter what ? Gesundheit?”

Keith gave him a blank look and Lance sighed, using the side of the ravine as a prop to pull himself up. “Never mind.”

They continued down the ravine for a while in silence. Keith’s eyes glowed bright gold in the darkness, and Lance’s gaze traced over the dark lines that ran from beneath Keith’s eyes to the base of his neck. Lance knew he was staring a bit, but it was the first time he had seen Keith in his Galra form up close. Keith looked all at once strange and yet still recognizable, with giant fluffy ears and glowing eyes but with the same familiar face and messy black hair that Lance had grown to know.

Keith met his gaze and sighed, dipping his head. “I suppose you have questions.”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement.”

“Alright,” Keith said, showing about as much enthusiasm for the conversation as one might show about jumping into the mouth of a volcano. “What would you like to know?”

“Let’s start with, who were those guys and why are they trying to kill me?”

Keith looked down, narrowing his eyes. “The Galra Empire. They want to conquer the universe, and they’ll destroy anything or anyone that gets in their way. They’re after you because you’re a threat.”

Lance raised his eyebrows, sending Keith a disbelieving look. “Uh, what? Me? You sure you’ve got the right guy here? ‘Cause uh, last I checked, I’m not really an expert on the whole, ‘destroying evil empires’ gig.”

Keith stopped in his tracks, fixing Lance with a piercing stare. “You must have noticed it.”

Lance felt a chill run down his spine and he took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. “…Noticed what?”

“I’m not an idiot, Lance, and neither are you. You blocked a laser blast with your bare hand. You’re powerful.”

Lance looked away, fixing his gaze on the ground. “I— I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid!”

“You are!”

“I’m not! I just— I can’t, okay? It’s better if no one knows about— that I’m not normal. It makes everything complicated. People ask questions, they— they come after my family—”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Lance, but nothing about this situation complies to your definition of normal.”

Lance turned away, hunching his shoulders. “Forget it. Let’s just keep walking.”

Keith made a frustrated noise and jogged to catch up to Lance. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “This is why I didn’t want to— I’m no good at this stuff.”

Lance snorted. “Yeah, no kidding.” Keith looked up at him, his brows drawn together, and Lance grinned, bumping Keith’s shoulder with his own. “It’s okay, Mullet.” Lance sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You’re right, though. I guess I am afraid.” He bit his lip. “Do you know what’s happening to me? Why I’m like this?”

Keith was silent for a moment. The sphere of light ahead of them illuminated a small ebony ship tucked against the side of the ravine, and Lance recognized it as the alien ship he had chased after many nights before.

“You have Altean blood in your veins,” Keith said finally.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s… kind of a long story, and I’m not sure I’m the best person to tell it.” Keith moved ahead of Lance, pulling out a strange looking remote. The bright violet lights on the side of the ship flickered on, the doors at the back slid open with a dull mechanical whir, and a small ramp descended into the sandy bank. “Long story short, Alteans are aliens, like the Galra,” Keith continued. “They created a weapon powerful enough to stand against the force of the Galra empire, but only someone with Altean blood would be able to pilot it. And you… you’re one of the few left in the universe with Altean heritage. You might be the only person who stands a chance of defeating the Galra Empire.”

“Me? You think I’m…” Lance’s pace slowed. “Look, there’s no way… I’m barely more than a pilot, and you think I can save the universe ?”

“No. I don’t.” Keith ascended the ramp, disappearing into the ship’s hull. Lance came to the bottom of the ramp and peered into the ship’s dimly lit interior, watching as Keith rummaged through stacks of crates before pulling out a single small box. “But I think you have a chance. And in the end, that’s what we’re all fighting for.” Keith pressed a button on the side of the box and the lid clicked open. He reached in and took out a small glowing object, cradling it in the palm of his hands.

Lance inched forward, curious. In Keith’s hands was a small, pale blue crystal, and Keith held it up, offering it to him.

Almost immediately, Lance could feel the air around him prickle with electricity, and a familiar hum thrummed against his ears. He shrunk away from the crystal, his hands reaching up to cover the tips of his ears instinctively.

“It’s okay,” Keith said gently. “You don’t have anything to be afraid of.”

Lance’s gaze flitted from the small crystal to Keith’s face. Keith, who was currently standing in full Galra form in front of him; who had already revealed himself to Lance for what he truly was.

Lance took a quick breath, letting his hands fall away from his ears and stepping up the ramp. If Keith could do it, so could he.

The hum around Lance grew louder, but this time, he didn’t shy away from it. He reached out, taking the crystal from Keith’s hands, and his gaze caught on his reflection in the sleek metal of the ship. He walked towards it, balancing the crystal on one hand and reaching up to trace the small blue crescents that had appeared under his eyes with the other. His hair had gone completely white, and the tips of his ears had become pointed.

He could still feel the hum pulsing around him, and for the first time, he let himself explore it. Energy crackled around his fingertips, and the violet lights of the ship grew brighter and brighter until they were almost blinding.

He was powerful. He was far more powerful than he ever could have imagined.

“Uh, Lance?” Keith’s voice cut in. “Look, it’s great that you’re having a moment and everything, but if you could maybe do that without destroying my ship, I’d really appreciate it.”

Lance blinked, shaking his head a bit, feeling as though he had been broken out of a trance. The lights around them dimmed, and Lance turned to face Keith.

“What is this thing?” Lance asked, handing the crystal back.

“Balmera crystal. They’re used to enhance the user’s quintessence, but they’re really rare.”

“Quintessence?” Lance repeated, glancing back at his reflection. Without the crystal, his hair turned back to a dark brown, the crescents beneath his eyes changed back into dark skin and freckles, and the pointed tips of his ears became rounded.

“You know… life force, magical energy, that type of thing.”

“Huh.” Lance’s gaze shifted back to the crystal in Keith’s hands. “So why do you have one?”

“Stole it,” Keith said shortly, tucking the crystal into the inside pocket of his jacket. Lance followed the motion, his brows drawing together slightly.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Keith narrowed his eyes, then jerked his head towards the cabin of the ship. “We need to get moving.”

Lance frowned, but decided to follow Keith’s lead and drop the conversation. The cabin lit up as they entered, and Lance scanned over the unfamiliar technology that lined the walls. He reached up to press one of the buttons experimentally, but Keith swatted his hand away.

“As soon as the Galra see us, all hell’s going to break loose,” Keith said. He sat down in the pilot’s seat and pulled the seatbelt over his chest, fastening it with a click. “I’ll do everything I can to get us out of here, but I’m not going to sugarcoat it. Our chances of making it past them in one piece aren’t good.”

Lance nodded, his throat feeling tight as he took the passenger seat, setting his messenger bag down on the floor beside it. The dashboard in front of them flooded with dim violet light as Keith grabbed the control wheel with one hand, using the other to tap on several of the buttons covering the panel. The engine roared to life and Keith leaned back in his chair, his other hand coming to rest on the control wheel.

“Alright,” Keith muttered, “here goes nothing.” He tipped the control wheel upward and the ship pulled into the air, gliding toward the crest of the ravine. “Once we’re clear of the planet’s atmosphere, I’m going to make the jump to lightspeed,” he said, his eyes narrowed and his brows drawn together in a determined scowl. “This is a stealth cruiser, so hopefully they won’t be able to track us after that.”

“Hopefully?”

“If we stick around long enough, they might be able to lock onto our ship’s signature. Then not even the jump will lose them.”

The ship rose out of the ravine and Lance caught a glimpse of the Galra battleship looming in the distance. Keith thrust the control wheel up and forward and Lance was pinned against his seat as the ship pulled up until it was almost parallel to the ground.

Laser fire erupted around them, lighting up the night sky. Lance’s grip on his seatbelt tightened as the horde of Galra ships emerged from the planet’s surface. They were surrounded.

But he knew that if anyone could get them out of this, Keith could.

The cabin filled with blinding light and Keith wrenched the controls to the left, pulling away from a large laser blast that cut across the sky like a searing knife. The ship shuddered beneath them as a wave of laser fire connected with the back of it and Keith cursed under his breath, swinging the ship around and opening fire on the fighters tailing them. The violet lights of the cabin turned crimson as an alarm blared through the ship, and Keith glanced over his shoulder, his expression going stony.

“Lance, you have to take the controls.”

“What? Me? But I don’t—”

“We’re losing power. If I don’t get back there and do something, we’ll fall out of the sky.” Keith pulled under the incoming Galra fighters, but the ship’s movements were becoming slow and sluggish, and the side of the right wing clipped against one of the fighters.

“I can’t—”

“Lance.” Keith turned to face him, his eyes locking with Lance’s for a heartbeat, crimson light framing his silhouette for a moment before fading. “You can do this. You have to do this.”

With that, Keith released the controls and stood from his seat, gripping the back of the chair to steady himself as a violent tremor shook the ship. Lance let out a shriek, fumbling to quickly unclip his seatbelt before dashing to the pilot’s seat. He grabbed the controls and wrenched them up, pulling the ship out of its nosedive, then cast a quick glance over his shoulder as Keith staggered towards the hull of the ship.

“Right,” Lance muttered, turning his attention back to the scene outside the windows of the ship. “Just learn how to pilot an alien ship with an entire fleet of fighters attacking us and our lives on the line, Lance. No pressure.” He swung the ship to the right to avoid a throng of Galra fighters heading towards him. “Guns,” he said under his breath, feeling along the back of the control wheel with his fingertips. “Where… where are the…” His index finger brushed against the indent of a button and he pulled the ship up, lining it up with a Galra fighter before pulling the trigger.

But instead of sending the fighter into a fiery explosion, windshield wipers flicked across the window of the ship. “Okay, so not that one.” Lance yanked the ship back and to the left, pulling it out of the fighter’s line of fire. “Keith, how are we doing?”

Keith let out a frustrated growl in response, followed by the sound of metal clanging against metal.

“That bad, huh?” Lance watched as the towering Galra battleship came into view in front of the ship, partially obscured by the windshield wipers flitting across the glass. “Yeah, we’re gonna die.”

The lights on the dashboard flickered before going dark.

“Uh, Keith?” Lance said.

“Just give me a dobosh!”

“A what!?”

The front of the ship dipped towards the surface of the planet. Lance yanked the control wheel up, but the ship remained unresponsive.

“Keith, we’re losing altitude! Whatever you’re planning on doing, do it fast!”

Keith didn’t respond. The ship continued to sink towards the ground, gaining momentum, and shadows fell over the surface of the planet as the swarm of Galra ships descended on them.

“Come on,” Lance muttered, panic seeping into his veins. His grip on the control wheel tightened as the surface of the planet loomed closer and closer.

A muffled click sounded from the hull of the ship. The cabin flooded with violet light, and the dashboard lit up in front of Lance.

“Hold on!” Lance yelled back at Keith, then he pulled up on the control wheel with everything he had, throwing his weight into the motion. The ship’s momentum shifted and Lance was pressed against his seat as the front of the ship tilted towards the sky. The Galra fighters were slower to pull up, and many of them ended up crashing into the surface of the planet. Lance used that advantage to gain back the altitude they had lost, until the only thing standing between them and open space was the Galra battleship.

The sky filled with sharp light as another laser beam sliced across it, emanating from a large cannon poised on the bridge of the battleship. Lance pulled the ship above the blast, his fingers running over the back of the control wheel until he found another button notched into it. He charged the ship towards the cannon, careful to stay out of the path of the beam, then used the split second window he had when the front of the ship lined up with the face of the cannon and pulled the trigger.

The shot hit its mark, and Lance pulled up as the laser blast became uneven and unstable, scorching the bridge of the battleship. The cannon burst and the explosion rattled the windows of Keith’s ship, but Lance didn’t stick around to see the aftermath.

“Keith, we’re clear,” Lance called, some of the tension in his shoulders falling away as the ship broke free of Nexlii’s atmosphere. But it quickly returned as the hull of the ship remained silent. “Keith?” Lance turned back in his seat, panic welling up in his chest as once again Keith failed to respond.

“I’m here,” Keith said finally, and Lance let out a small sigh of relief. “The coordinates are already set, just activate the lightspeed booster.”

Lance frowned, scanning over the hundreds of buttons and levers that covered the dashboard. “Uh.”

“The lever near the control wheel.”

“Which one?”

“Just pick one!”

Lance grabbed the nearest lever and thrust it forward. The roar of the engine grew louder and louder until the ship shot forward, and Lance shielded his eyes with his arm as the stars around him warped into brilliant streaks of light.

It was over in an instant, and Lance leaned forward in his chair, feeling a bit dazed as he tentatively peered beyond the dashboard. But outside the windows of the ship lie nothing but an empty expanse of space.

“Uh, Keith?” Lance said. “You sure you put in the right coordinates? There’s nothing here.”

The sound of footsteps echoed from the hull of the ship, and Lance glanced back as Keith re-entered the cabin. He gave Keith a quick once-over, but aside from looking a bit disheveled, Keith seemed to be unharmed.

“Couldn’t risk leading the Empire to our base,” Keith said. “We’ll have to schedule a pickup in case they caught on to our ship’s signature.”

Lance got up and slipped back into the passenger seat, allowing Keith to take over in front of the controls. Keith tapped on a few buttons on the dashboard and a fluorescent blue screen appeared above it.

“Kolivan,” Keith acknowledged the stone-faced Galra onscreen. “My mission was compromised. I’m at the rendezvous point, but I’m going to keep moving towards the Nearova belt in case the Empire is following me.”

“What of the Altean?” Kolivan asked.

“He’s—”

“Nice to meet you!” Lance interrupted, leaning in front of the screen and giving it a little wave. “I have a name, by the way. It’s Lance.”

Kolivan met his gaze for a moment, his expression unchanging, then he turned back to Keith. “I will send someone to pick you up immediately.” Keith dipped his head in response and the screen flickered a moment before fading.

“Well. He seems… pleasant,” Lance commented. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest as he gazed out of the windows of the ship, his eyes tracing over the unfamiliar patterns of stars. “So what now?”

“Now? We wait for a pickup.”

“No, I mean like… where do we go from here?” Lance’s mouth pulled into a frown, and his arms tightened around himself until his fingernails pressed into the fabric of his jacket. “I mean, if there really is an entire intergalactic empire looking for me…” He sighed, feeling his stomach twist as the worry that he had been pushing to the back of his mind all night boiled over. “Will I ever get to go home?”

Keith was silent for a long moment, and Lance looked up to find him staring out the window with a carefully hardened expression.

“I don’t know,” Keith said finally, softly. “I’m sorry. I don’t… I’m not the best person to ask about this.”

Lance let out the breath he had been holding slowly, his head dropping back against his seat. There was silence between them then, and a tension in the air so thick it was almost tangible.

“Lance—” Keith started, but before he could finish, the fluorescent blue screen lit up on the dashboard. A hooded figure appeared onscreen, wearing a mask covered with glowing markings that looked similar to the one Keith had been wearing the night Lance had first seen him.

“We’re here,” the masked figure announced. “Stand by and prepare to board.”

Keith gave a nod of acknowledgement, then cut the engine. He reached over to a keypad tucked away in the top left corner of the dashboard and his fingers danced across the buttons.

“What’s that?” Lance asked.

“Self-destruct mechanism.”

“Oh. Great,” Lance muttered, suddenly in more of a hurry to get his seatbelt undone. 

He stood up after Keith and followed him to the hull of the ship, snatching his messenger bag from where it had slid into the back corner of the cabin. Keith stopped by one of the crates in the cargo hull and opened it, pulling out a dark spacesuit, which he folded up and tucked under his arm.

The ground lurched beneath their feet, and Lance leaned against the side of the ship to steady himself. Keith barely seemed to notice the motion, and he took a few steps toward the back door of the ship. It slid open with a mechanical whir, revealing a dimly lit hallway occupied by three tall figures, all dressed in identical dark hooded space suits with their faces obscured by masks.

The figure in the center stepped forward, leaning against the doorframe and crossing one leg over the other. “Kirak. Botched another mission, I see,” she noted, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“I didn’t botch anything,” Keith said with a scowl.

“Of course not.” She turned to Lance, her head tilting slightly. “And you must be what all the fuss is about. Huh. I thought you’d be taller.”

Lance bristled, but before he could give a retort, the masked Galra waved her hand dismissively.

“Anyway, we’d better get moving. You two have probably seen more than enough of the Empire for today.” With that, she pushed off of the door and started back down the hallway. Keith and Lance followed, and as soon as the door to Keith’s ship slid closed behind them, the masked Galra tapped a finger against the side of her mask. “We’re clear. Get us out of here.”

The ground jolted beneath their feet again, and Keith caught Lance’s arm as he staggered a bit.

“I’m Ezor, by the way,” the masked Galra said as the five of them continued down the hallway, their footsteps echoing in the small space. “These two are Acxa and Zethrid, and you’ve already met Kirak.”

Lance stared at Keith, his mouth dropping open. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up. Your name is Kirak?”

Keith shrugged, staring at the ground. “You can still call me Keith if you want."

Ahead of them, the hallway opened up into the ship’s bridge, a large, triangular room framed by large windows and control dashboards. Ezor’s two companions immediately separated from the group as they entered the bridge, going to assist the other Galra working at the controls.

“You two might want to get comfortable. We’ve still got a couple vargas before the lightspeed booster’s ready for another jump,” Ezor said, giving them a salute before going to join her companions.

Keith took a seat in one of the chairs lining the center of the bridge, and Lance sunk into the chair next to him. The bridge fell into a comfortable silence, and Lance leaned back in his seat, letting out a heavy sigh as he watched the windows. Now that they were out of immediate danger, exhaustion was starting to seep into his bones, and his eyelids were growing heavier by the second. He rubbed his hand over his eyes, trying to keep himself awake, but stopped as he felt Keith nudge his arm.

“You should get some rest,” Keith said quietly.

“Not tired,” Lance murmured, which probably would have been a bit more convincing if he didn’t let out a yawn immediately after saying it. Keith snorted and Lance sent him a glare. “Shut up.”

“Didn’t say anything.”

Lance let his head fall back against the chair, fidgeting to try to get into a more comfortable position, but nothing felt right.

“You can use my shoulder if you want,” Keith said, then cleared his throat awkwardly, not meeting Lance’s gaze.

Lance blinked at him, then hesitated a moment before letting his head fall onto Keith’s shoulder. He grimaced as his cheeks grew warm, and peeked up at Keith to see if he’d noticed. He allowed himself a small smile when he saw that Keith’s face was flushed red as well.

Lance let his eyes fall closed, his consciousness slowly slipping away. Just before he drifted off, he felt something warm settle against the top of his head, and he let out a soft sigh of contentment.


—


“Lance.”

Lance groaned in response, keeping his eyes closed and shrinking in on himself, contorting his face into a scowl. His back hurt, everything ached, and it was decidedly way too early for someone to be bothering him.

“Lance, we’re here.”

“Here can wait. Five more hours.”

Lance heard someone chuckle softly and something poked his cheek. He swatted it away with a grunt.

The ground jolted beneath him and Lance finally opened his eyes, memories flooding back to him as he found himself back on the bridge of the Galra cruiser. But the starry expanse of space outside the windows of the bridge had been replaced with a dimly lit hangar. The engine of the cruiser fell silent, and as Lance watched, the ebony-clad crew began filing out of the cabin.

Lance’s head was still resting on Keith’s shoulder, and he felt his face heat up as he realized he had curled up against Keith’s side.

“We should get moving before we get locked in the ship,” Keith said, nudging Lance’s arm.

Lance let out another groan and reluctantly pulled himself to his feet, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He let Keith lead him out of the cruiser, blinking sleepily and wrapping his arms around his chest to keep warm.

“So, uh… where exactly are we?” Lance asked as they descended the ship’s ramp, his gaze sweeping over the expansive hangar they had landed in. It was bigger than the hangar at the Garrison station by a long shot, and filled with strange alien ships, some Galra, some like nothing Lance had ever seen before. He caught sight of more Galra agents walking about, and some of them watched him curiously.

“The Blade of Marmora base,” Keith replied, leading them down one of the metal hallways branching off of the hangar. The hallway was even darker than the hangar, lit only by small violet lights that were few and far between, and Lance was finding it harder and harder to stay awake.

“Man, you guys sure like purple, huh?” Lance mumbled, scrubbing his hands over his eyes in an effort to keep himself from falling asleep on his feet. Keith stopped in front of one of the rooms lining the hallway, and Lance just barely managed to pull back before he ran into him.

“We’ll go to see Kolivan tomorrow,” Keith said, pressing the palm of his hand against a panel on the side of the door. “He’ll explain everything. He’s… better at talking about this stuff than I am.”

Beyond the door lay a small vacant room, furnished only by a small bed built into the right wall and a desk and chair next to the left. Lance took a step forward, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he looked the room over, but aside from the bed and desk, it was completely empty. 

“I’m not sure if we have any spare rooms, so… we’ll just have to make this work for now,” Keith said as he stepped forward, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket and wringing the fabric between his fingertips. 

“Oh,” Lance said, and then his gaze fell back to the small, single person bed tucked away in the corner of the room. Oh.

Lance pulled the collar of his jacket up, hoping to hide his face as he felt his cheeks warm.

“So, uh…” Keith looked at the ground, shifting his weight awkwardly. “How do you wanna do this? I mean, I can sleep on the floor, or…”

“Nah,” Lance said, then cleared his throat as his voice came out several octaves higher than normal. “Nah, it’s uh, it’s cool. We can just… you know…” He gestured at the bed vaguely. “It’s cool,” he repeated. “I mean, I have siblings, so you know. I’m used to bed sharing.” Which was true, but climbing into bed with his older brother Luis after he had a nightmare when he was nine and sharing a bed with Keith of all people were two completely different things and oh god why did he think he could do this.

Keith gave a short nod, and Lance took a small bit of comfort from seeing that at least Keith looked as freaked out about the whole situation as he did (though the more he thought about that, the more he started to feel a small prick of offense mixed with another emotion he was definitely not going to analyze right now).

Lance sat down on the edge of the bed, setting his messenger bag on the floor and pulling his boots off before scooting over next to the wall. He pulled the blanket up to his chest as Keith settled in beside him, hoping the blush that was undoubtedly covering his face wasn’t too blatant. Calling his position uncomfortable would be an understatement; the bed felt like it was made of a thin sheet pinned on top of a metal board, and there was barely enough room for one person on it, let alone two.

“Move over, will you? I’m practically hanging off the edge here,” Keith grumbled, jabbing Lance’s side with his elbow.

“There’s nowhere for me to go, Keith! And stop hogging the blanket!”

“I’m not!” 

Their bickering died down after a while, but despite how exhausted Lance felt, he suddenly found that falling asleep was nearly impossible. When he closed his eyes, he was plagued with visions of the Galra commander’s snarling face, or of the violet ground hundreds of feet beneath him drawing rapidly closer. And when he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by a room that was cold and dark and unfamiliar. His mind was filled to the brim with too many questions and not enough answers, and his heart ached when thought of what he’d left behind.

“Lance?” Keith said quietly, shifting in the bed next to him. “Are you crying?”

“Of course not,” Lance snapped, rolling over so he was facing the wall and scrubbing his hand over his eyes angrily. “Just— just leave me alone.”

Keith was quiet for a moment. “It’s okay if you are. I know this… all of this… it must be a lot.”

Lance snorted, then drew in a shaky breath. “Yeah, you think?”

“Do you, um… do you want to talk about it?”

Lance sighed, shifting onto his back and rubbing his thumb and index finger over his eyes. “I just… yesterday, my biggest worry was getting stuck with extra paperwork, you know? And now— now I’m caught in the middle of an intergalactic war that I know almost nothing about. I used to want to believe that I was special, that I could… I don’t know, make a difference in the world or something, but now that I am… honestly, I just want to wake up and find out that everything that happened today was just a dream. I— I’m scared, Keith,” Lance said, his voice cracking. “I’m scared that I’ll never see my family again. I’m scared that I won’t be good enough.”

“You are good enough.”

Lance let out a humorless laugh. “How could you know that?”

“Because I know you, Lance. I can’t guarantee that everything will be okay, but if we do fail, it won’t be because you weren’t good enough. If we fail, it’ll be because we never stood a chance in the first place.”

Lance groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “Keith, buddy, I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but bringing up the whole ‘we’re probably doomed’ thing right now is really not helping.”

“Sorry. Just… trying to be realistic.”

“I’d rather forget reality right now. Can we talk about something else?”

“Like what?”

“Hmm…” Lance hummed, considering for a moment. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Probably red. You?”

“Blue. Like the color of the ocean.”

“I’ve never seen an ocean before.”

“What? Oh, man, you are missing out. I’ll have to take you to Varadero one day. I guarantee that there’s nothing as beautiful in the entire universe.” Lance turned his head to face Keith, and his heart skipped a beat as he realized how close their faces were. Maybe it was his sleep-deprived mind making him delirious, but Lance felt the sudden, inexplicable urge to gently tuck a stray lock of Keith’s inky black hair behind his ear. 

Well, maybe I can think of one thing as beautiful, Lance thought absently.

“What?” Keith asked. 

Lance let out a squeak. He definitely hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

Keith chuckled softly, rolling onto his back. “I’ve heard there’s an ocean on Daibazaal, too. It’s supposed to be kind of an orange-ish color, though. Oh, and it’s toxic.”

“How pleasant.”

“Yeah, not exactly the best place for a relaxing getaway. Though I guess the same could be said for the entire planet.”

“That’s the Galra homeworld, I take it?”

“Yeah. I haven’t been there since… I haven’t been there in a long time. I’d be glad to never see it again, honestly.” Keith was quiet for a long moment, then he curled up onto his side with his back facing Lance.

They stayed for a while in silence. Lance was pretty sure Keith had fallen asleep, because he didn’t complain when Lance pulled a couple more inches of the blanket over to his side. Lance sighed, using his arm to cushion the back of his head and forcing his eyes closed. He eventually drifted off into a light, fitful sleep, but was woken up what felt like only minutes later by a loud thump.

He opened his eyes. Standing in the center of the room was a tall, dark figure with glowing yellow eyes. Lance let out a bloodcurdling scream.

“Lance. Lance! It’s just me!” Keith growled, flicking the light on.

“Keith!? The hell’re you doing, trying to give me a heart attack!?”

“You pushed me off the bed!”

Lance opened his mouth to protest, but his words died in his throat when he realized he was lying on the very edge of the bed with one arm and one leg dangling over the side. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Now move over, I’m taking the side near the wall.”

A few moments filled with more elbow jabs and arguing over the blanket later, Lance finally managed to drift back off to sleep, but it wasn’t long after that that he found himself landing on the cold metal ground beside the bed. He sat up with a groan and dusted himself off, then sent a glare to Keith, who was fast asleep on the very edge of the bed, blissfully unaware of Lance’s predicament. 

But Lance’s expression softened as he caught sight of Keith’s face. Keith looked more calm and peaceful than Lance had ever seen him, and the worry lines and dark circles beneath his eyes that had appeared over the last few days had all but faded.

Lance sighed, reaching out and tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind Keith’s ear. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he grumbled, standing up and gently moving Keith closer to the wall, trying not to wake him.

“Lance?” Keith said sleepily, his brows furrowing together as he reached out into the space next to him, his eyes still closed.

“I’m here,” Lance said, taking Keith’s hand and gently squeezing it. “Just go back to sleep, okay?” Lance settled down in the space next to Keith and Keith curled into his side, resting his head against Lance’s shoulder. 

Lance froze, then slowly let out the breath he’d been holding. He hesitated a moment, then shifted onto his side and gently draped his arm around Keith’s back.

“Is this okay?” Lance asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Mmhm,” Keith mumbled absently, pillowing his head against Lance’s chest.

“Okay,” Lance said. He tried to stay as still as possible, hardly daring to breathe out of fear that the tiniest motion would be enough to shatter the moment and cause both of them to pull apart after realizing the embarrassing intimacy of their situation. 

But as time went on and the peace remained unbroken, Lance allowed himself to relax. He wrapped his arms tighter around Keith and rested his chin on the top of Keith’s head. It wasn’t long after that that he drifted off into a deep sleep.



—



“You ready?”

Lance’s eyes traced over the violet bars of light that ran across the tall metal door that blocked his and Keith’s path. He let out a slow, heavy breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Keith pressed his palm against the panel on the side of the door. It slid open to reveal a spacious room with stairs at the back leading up to large, floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the hangar of the base. Two masked agents flanked the stone-faced Galra in the center of the room, and Lance recognized him as the Galra who had contacted Keith before.

“Kolivan,” Keith said in greeting. 

Kolivan dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement. Then his gaze shifted to Lance.

“Uh, hey,” Lance said awkwardly, giving him a wave. “Keith— er, well, Kirak, I guess— told me that you could explain what’s going on.”

“Yes,” Kolivan said. “I suppose it is time.” He narrowed his eyes, clasping his hands together behind his back. “But first, you must prove yourself.”

“You can’t be serious,” Keith growled. He marched forward, putting himself between Kolivan and Lance, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “After everything we’ve been through—”

“You know our code. Knowledge or death,” Kolivan said, his voice remaining emotionless.

“Uh, can I choose knowledge?” Lance asked hopefully.

“This isn’t a game!” Keith snapped at Kolivan. “You know what’s at stake here!”

“If he wants to find his destiny, let him prove it,” Kolivan said.

“He’s already proven himself to me a thousand times over! If you won’t tell him, I will.” Keith crossed his arms over his chest, unflinching under Kolivan’s gaze, and a thick silence fell over the room.

“...So be it,” Kolivan said finally, a cold edge to his voice.

Keith moved back to Lance’s side. Lance tried to catch his eye, but Keith pointedly avoided his gaze.

“You.” Kolivan’s voice pierced through the silence, and Lance’s gaze snapped back to him. “How much do you know?”

“Uh,” Lance said, suddenly uncomfortable with being the center of attention. “That I’m… part Altean?” he started. “And that I’m supposed to be able to use some sort of weapon or something.”

Kolivan nodded. He was silent for a moment, and Lance clenched and unclenched his hands into fists at his side, nervous apprehension bubbling in his chest.

“The weapon’s name is Voltron. It’s a ship,” Kolivan started.

Lance felt as though an invisible wall had slammed into his chest, knocking the breath from his lungs. Voltron. He knew that name, though he wasn’t sure when he had heard it before. The name echoed in his mind with resounding familiarity and importance, tethered to something between a memory and a feeling that remained just out of reach.

“It was built as a last resort by the Alteans in the fight against the Galra Empire,” Kolivan continued, dragging Lance from his thoughts. “But as the Empire drew closer to victory, the ruler of Altea decided to send Voltron away out of fear of what would happen if the Galra got their hands on it.”

“So… do you know where it is?” Lance asked.

Kolivan shook his head. “It was taken to Earth and hidden for years, but it didn’t take long for the Galra to find out what happened. The ship’s pilot used Voltron to protect Earth and lead the Galra away, but neither him or the ship have been seen since then.”

Lance took a moment to review the information Kolivan had given him, suddenly feeling lightheaded as the pieces fell into place. Earth. The ship’s pilot — “My father,” Lance concluded, staggering backwards and running his hands through his hair as the weight of the realization fell on him. “Oh, my god…”

Neither him or the ship have been seen since then.

Lance took another step back, his hands starting to shake. Keith moved towards him, his brow tightened in concern. He offered Lance his hand awkwardly, saying something that Lance couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears. Lance grabbed Keith’s hand like it was a lifeline, letting the warmth spreading through his palm ground him.

“That’s—” Impossible, Lance wanted to say, but he knew it was anything but.

The day he had left for the Garrison, his mamá had tears in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him tightly, her voice coming out muffled and shaky as she buried her face in his shoulder.

“You’ve always been a child of the stars, just like your papá,” she had said, “and I know they call to you, but I fear for the day I’ll lose you to them, just as I lost him.”

Keith took another step towards Lance, raising his hand to Lance’s cheek and wiping away the warm wetness that had gathered there. Lance hadn’t even realized he had started crying.

“Do you want to take a break?” Keith asked softly. “The rest is easier, I promise.”

Lance closed his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. “I can handle it.” He met Kolivan’s gaze again, and Kolivan gave a nod of acknowledgement.

“Your father told us about you before he disappeared,” Kolivan said. “He wanted us to protect you in case the Galra found you, but not to intervene in your life unless it became necessary.”

“And then you went and got yourself stationed on a planet right on the brink of Galra territory,” Keith said, nudging Lance’s shoulder.

“That’s why I sent Kirak to keep an eye on you, and to remove you if it became necessary,” Kolivan explained.

Lance rubbed the palms of his hand against his temples. “Alright,” he muttered. “And… and now that I’m here… what happens now?”

“You will remain within the base until further notice.”

“For how long?” Lance pressed, his hands clenching into fists.

“Until further notice,” Kolivan repeated, weighting each word. “That is all you need to know for now. You are dismissed.”

“Dismissed? You can’t just—”

“Come on. Let’s just go,” Keith muttered, catching Lance’s arm and pulling him towards the door, his voice tinged with bitterness.

“Kirak. A moment,” Kolivan said.

Keith winced, dropping his gaze and letting go of Lance’s arm. Lance sent him a questioning look. “Just go,” Keith said, forcing a smile. “I’ll catch up.”


—


Lance started for the door, then paused and looked back to meet Keith’s gaze, his brow furrowing. But he hesitated only a moment before continuing out into the hall, and the door slid shut behind him.

Keith slowly turned back to face Kolivan, bracing himself for the inevitable reprehension for his earlier outburst.

But Kolivan’s expression betrayed nothing as he studied Keith. “You’ve grown attached,” he noted.

Keith crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “So what if I have?”

“You know that attachment is a weakness a Blade cannot afford.”

Keith dropped his arms to his sides, his hands clenching into fists. “You’re the one that told me to get close to him in the first place!”

“It was necessary for the mission that he trust you. Now you must let go.”

Keith’s nails dug into the palms of his hands as the cold, gaping hole in his chest threatened to swallow him whole. He fixed his gaze on the ground, silently willing his eyes to stop burning.

“I know that our laws are harsh,” Kolivan continued, an edge of sympathy seeping into his voice, “but they are necessary to ensure the survival of our organization and the fight against the Galra Empire.”

Keith scrubbed a hand over his eyes, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He took a deep breath to compose himself before he met Kolivan’s gaze again. “I understand,” he said, keeping his voice level and emotionless.

“Good. I have a new mission for you.”

Keith blinked, feeling as though the ground had been ripped from beneath his feet. “Already?”

“Now more than ever, it is imperative that we continue the search for Voltron.” Kolivan descended the stairs, crossing the distance between them and handing Keith a small tablet. “Everything you need to know about the mission is on here. You will depart immediately.”

Keith took the tablet, catching sight of his own dismal expression reflected on its face. “Can I at least say goodbye first?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Kolivan hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Very well.”

Keith bowed his head in response, not trusting himself to speak.

— 

Lance wandered the corridors of the Marmora base aimlessly, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket and his head lowered. It was all so much— too much. He wasn’t sure how long he had been walking or where he was going, but at the moment, he didn’t particularly care.

He paused as he came to a sealed door, and he pressed his hand against the panel beside it experimentally. But the door didn’t budge, so Lance shot it a glare and turned away. He had only taken a few steps when he heard the door slide open behind him. He whirled around, prepared to accuse the door of mocking him, but his words died in his throat as he caught sight of the figure standing in the doorway.

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you,” Keith said, sounding a bit out of breath as he crossed the distance between them. 

“Sorry,” Lance said. He tried to give Keith a smile, but it must not have been very convincing, because Keith’s face immediately contorted with worry.

“How are you doing?” Keith asked. “I know this must be a lot to take in.”

Lance huffed out a laugh, dipping his head. “Yeah, no kidding.”

He looked up again to find Keith giving him a strange look, with his brows furrowed together and his head tilted to the side as he chewed his bottom lip. Keith crossed his arms over his chest, looking away for a moment and taking a deep breath before he met Lance’s gaze again.

“Lance, I—” Keith’s words were interrupted by a sharp buzzing noise, and he visibly deflated, his shoulders slumping and his face falling as he pulled a small radio-like device out of his pocket and silenced the noise. “I have to go.”

Lance felt a knot form in his chest. “Go? Where?”

“Kolivan gave me a new mission. I have to leave immediately, and I— damn it, I know I’m already late,” Keith growled, silencing the radio again as the buzzing noise started up once more. He hesitated a moment, scowling at the ground, and the hallway was silent except for the rustling of Keith’s jacket as he stuffed the small radio back into his pocket. “I came to say goodbye,” Keith said finally, his voice barely audible.

The knot in Lance’s chest twisted painfully. “Goodbye? You mean, like... forever?”

Keith shrugged, still not meeting Lance’s gaze. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

“Oh,” Lance said, his voice faint. He wasn’t sure what else to say— a million combinations of words crossed his mind, but all of them were too selfish or too terrifying to give voice to. “So… that’s it, then?” he said instead.

“Guess so.” Keith fell silent for a moment. And in that moment, Lance thought that maybe he’d like to be selfish, that maybe he’d like to be bold, that maybe he’d like to tell Keith all the things he hadn’t even been able to admit to himself. 

But he waited too long, and the moment slipped away. 

“Good luck, Lance,” Keith said, without meeting his gaze. And with that, he turned away, and the door slid closed behind him before Lance had the chance to respond.

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Lance standing alone in the empty hallway.

“You too,” Lance said quietly, to no one.

Chapter Text

Two years later

Lance was awakened by the shrill sound of something rapping against metal. He rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow with a groan.

“McClain!” a muffled voice called. “Nyma’s been looking for you.”

“Be right there,” Lance mumbled, his voice sounding unconvincing even to his own ears. He lay facedown on the bed for a few moments longer, soaking in the last precious seconds of rest before sitting up with a dramatic sigh and pulling off his sleep mask.

His bed was tucked into the corner of a cramped, dimly lit metal room. Soft sunlight filtered in through grates in the roof, casting streaks of gold over the floor and foot of the bed. Beside the head of the bed was a shelf and desk, both with hundreds of knick knacks and souvenirs from distant planets strewn over them. Lance reclined against the headboard, covering his eyes with his hand to block out the light and blindly reaching out to his desk for his Walkman. 

The upbeat, cheerful music that started to play as he slipped the headset over his ears gave him the motivation to finally get up and prepare for the day, and it wasn’t long before he was pulling on his dark blue overcoat and heading for the door. But he froze with his hand inches away from the panel, remembering at the last second to activate his mask before he opened the door. Dark metal materialized around his face, and his vision became tinted with blue. He let out a sigh that was halfway between relief and resignation and stepped out.

The hallway was lined with rows of identical doors on both sides, all made from the same dull grey metal with faded yellow numbers printed on them at eye level. Lance took a right, humming as he walked and giving a nod to a large blue four-armed alien that passed by. The hall ended in a steep ramp, and Lance had to cover his hand over his eyes to block out the blinding morning light as he made his way up, his boots scuffing over layers of orange sand.

The exterior of the rebel base was disguised as a bustling trading market, both as a way to hide in plain sight as well as to raise money for the cause. Lance wove his way through hundreds upon hundreds of colorful market stalls, which sold everything from intricately woven clothing to dehydrated fruit from distant planets and small mechanical gadgets. A warm breeze swept over the landscape, tugging on the brightly colored carpets that protected the market from the clouds of amber dust the wind carried with it. As Lance came to the fringe of the marketplace, his gaze drifted out to the towering orange sand dunes that surrounded it. The gold morning light struck them in a way that seemed to light them aflame, and clouds of sand climbed into the air like plumes of smoke. 

It was beautiful, in a way, but try as he might, Lance couldn’t stifle the feeling that he’d rather be anywhere else. Over the years, his heart had grown heavy with the things he’d left behind, and the burden seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. The only thing moving him forward was knowing that the work he did was making a difference. But something was always missing, and he didn’t have the courage to give it a name.

“Lance,” Nyma’s voice called, cutting into Lance’s thoughts. She snapped her fingers to get his attention.

“Huh? Oh, sorry. You were looking for me?”

“Yeah,” she said, without looking up from her tablet. She tapped her fingers over the keys of it, which made a muted clicking noise. “I need you to make a supply run from Olkarion to Balmera. Think you can handle it?”

Lance scoffed, propping his arm on a nearby support beam. “Do I think I can handle it? Do you know who you’re talking to here?”

Nyma rolled her eyes, then shot a quick glance over her shoulder, biting her lip. “I’d be careful with this one if I were you,” she said, lowering her voice. “The last few missions got botched by Galra interference. Rolo barely made it back yesterday.”

Lance felt his heart sink into his stomach. Deep down he’d known it would only be a matter of time before the Empire caught on to what they were doing, but dealing with the reality of it was a cold reminder of the fragile nature of the rebellion’s existence. In the end, they were merely slapping band-aids over the hull of a sinking ship that sprung more leaks with every day.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” Lance said, projecting confidence into his voice even though he didn’t quite feel it. “I’ll be back before you even start to miss me.”

Nyma rolled her eyes again, tossing one of her bright yellow headtails over her shoulder. “Shouldn’t be hard,” she said, then giggled as Lance let out a gasp of mock offense. “Good luck,” she added, her tone sobering. She pursed her lips, looking as though she wanted to add something else. But before she could, she was approached by a short alien with a face that looked like a cross between a pug and a sunflower. They asked her something in an alien language Lance didn’t recognize, and Nyma gave an enthusiastic response, clasping her hands together. She shot Lance a thin smile, then disappeared into the crowd with the alien in tow.

—

The trip to Olkarion went without a hitch. Almost… unnervingly so. Lance didn’t catch so much as a glimpse of the Empire on the way there, and he wasn’t ready to chalk that up to good luck. He couldn’t get rid of the pit of dread that had been slowly growing in his stomach. Ever since he’d stepped up to the ship’s controls that morning, he’d started to feel a strange nervous energy bubbling underneath his skin. The longer things remained quiet, the more his anxiety grew.

“Is everything alright?” a voice asked. Lance tore his gaze away from his starship and turned to face the leader of the Olkari, Ryner. She strode towards him with her hands neatly clasped in front of her and the hood of her white robe pulled up, her crimson eyes questioning. “You seem troubled.”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, no, everything’s fine,” Lance said, clearing his throat and descending the ship’s ramp to meet her. “Just got lost in thought for a moment there.”

“I see,” Ryner said, her expression unreadable.

“Is there something I can help with?”

Ryner shook her head. “No, you’ve already done more than enough. I wanted to come and personally give you my gratitude for everything you’re doing. It is thanks to your friends’ continued efforts that our planet has been freed from the Galra, and now you continue to give aid to others in need.”

“Oh,” Lance said, momentarily at a loss for words, his chest feeling tight.

Ryner let out a wistful sigh, her gaze drifting out to the towering forests that surrounded them. “I hope that one day we may be able to join you in your fight, but for the time being our efforts must remain in rebuilding.” She met his eyes again. “So for now, I leave you with my personal thanks…” She paused for a moment, considering. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Starshooter,” Lance said, touching his index finger to the top of his mask in a small salute.

Ryner blinked. “...Right.” She cleared her throat. “Well, in any case, I’ll leave you to it. Farewell, and good luck.”

— 

As the last of the supplies were loaded onto Lance’s starship, he contacted Nyma to let her know that so far everything was going according to plan. The comm clicked off, the doors slammed shut, and a thick silence fell over the ship. Lance let out a sigh as he slipped into the pilot’s seat, then reached up and deactivated his mask. He caught sight of his own somber expression staring back at him in the reflection of the windshield, and he subconsciously reached up and brushed his fingers beneath his eyes.

Lance waited outside of Kolivan’s study with his arms crossed over his chest, scowling at the ground and drumming his fingers against his arm. Zethrid was leaning against the wall across from him, no doubt there to make sure he didn’t try to bolt again.

The door slid open and Kolivan stepped out, his expression betraying nothing, as usual. He studied Lance for a moment in silence, probably waiting for Lance to give him an explanation. Lance shot him a defiant look.

“This is the third time this week you’ve tried to make a run for it,” Kolivan stated finally.

“And it won’t be the last,” Lance spat. “You can’t keep me here forever.” He braced himself for the inevitable speech on how he needed to stay out of reach from the Empire, how it was too dangerous for him to leave, how it was selfish for him to put his life at risk when he was one half of the universe’s last hope.

But Kolivan merely dipped his head, his shoulders slumped in resignation. “I know.”

Lance was stunned into silence for a moment. “...What?”

Kolivan reached into the pocket of his robe and produced a small remote. He pressed a button on the center of it, and dark metal started to materialize around it, until it took the shape of a helmet. He offered it to Lance, who took it and turned it over in his hands, eyeing it skeptically.

“It is my job to protect you,” Kolivan said. “And it has started to become clear to me that the best way to accomplish that may be to do the best I can to prepare you for the day that you leave.”

Lance looked up at him incredulously.

“You have trouble with shifting, so this mask will hide your Altean features,” Kolivan continued. “I know that it’s difficult for you, but please at least try not to draw attention to yourself. And above all, don’t let anyone know who you are or what you can do. Trust no one.”

Lance studied the small remote in the palm of his hand and let out a heavy sigh. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t regret how he had left things, but he knew it had been necessary. He bit his lip. He hoped that the rest of the Blade were doing alright. He hoped that—

A resounding clang echoed in his mind as his thoughts slammed against the poorly buried crate of feelings he had hastily shoved to the back of his mind years ago. He shook his head in an attempt to throw his mind off of the slippery slope it was heading down.

Nope . Not going there.

He reached out and flicked a switch on the ship’s dashboard, and the engine came to life with a resounding hum. He grabbed the controls and pulled the ship into the air slowly, carefully maneuvering around the trunks of towering trees and thick interwoven canopies. Once he was clear of the forest, he swung the ship skyward and hit the thruster. The hum of the engine grew louder and louder until it was almost deafening, and the ship shot forward like a bullet, pinning him against his seat and rattling as it pierced the clouds. The sky faded from bright blue to black in a fraction of a second, and the ship’s dashboard lit up with a neon blue light.

A small warning screen appeared over the console. Lance tapped on it and it transformed into a holographic map, showing a brigade of large vessels approaching from ahead. 

Beyond the windows of the ship, several dark forms obscured the star-lit sky. Lance’s blood froze in his veins. A legion of Galra battleships fanned out around him, forming a half circle surrounding his ship. He cursed under his breath, his fingers tightening around the control wheel.

The leading battleship slowly crawled towards him like a cat stalking a mouse. Lance leaned forward, waiting in tense apprehension for the sky to light up with laser fire. He jolted as a blue light flashed on the dashboard, making a small chime. 

He eyed it warily. They were trying to contact him? It wasn’t like the Galra to ask questions before blowing a ship to oblivion. He let out a slow breath and activated his mask, then put the call through. A bright blue screen lit up over the windshield, showing the face of a grumpy-looking Galra commander with folded ears and an exaggerated underbite.

“Is there a problem, officer?” Lance asked, propping his chin on his hand.

“This is restricted space.”

“Oh, really?” Lance clutched his hand to his chest in feigned surprise. “I had no idea. Well, thanks for the heads up, I’ll just get out of your hair— er, fur—”

“Don’t even think about it,” the commander growled. “Stand by and prepare to be boarded.” The screen cut to static and dissipated.

“Great,” Lance muttered. “Well, that’s not going to happen.” 

He thrust the controls forward, launching the ship underneath the leading Galra cruiser. Blinding streaks of light shot past the window, and the ship shuddered violently as it took fire. The pale blue lights of the cabin turned crimson, and a blaring alarm sounded. “Come on, stay with me,” Lance muttered under his breath, patting the ship’s dashboard. 

He had to get out of here, now. He had enough power for a single hyperspace jump, but with the Galra fleet able to track him, he couldn’t risk jumping to the rebel base or Balmera.

A skyscraper-sized battleship pulled in front of him, barring his path. Lance wrenched the controls to the side, swinging the ship around and narrowly avoiding a collision. 

“Why don’t you guys go pick on someone your own size?” he snapped.

The ship jolted and rattled as another wave of laser fire connected with its hull, and Lance gritted his teeth. He thrust the controls forward, carefully threading his way through the blockade.

Something heavy struck the side of the ship, sending it careening to the side and nearly throwing Lance from his seat. He floundered with the controls in a frantic attempt to pull it steady. The lights flickered and then went out, plunging the cabin into darkness. 

“Come on,” he muttered, a distressed whine clinging to his voice as he tugged on the unresponsive controls. 

Despair welled in his chest as the stars were swallowed up by the mass of battleships that closed in on him. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

A hum echoed in the back of his mind, somewhere between a sound and a feeling, growing louder and louder until it took the form of a voice. No.

Lance’s vision blurred and darkened, and time ground to a stop.

You cannot die here .

Lance opened his eyes, then drew in a sharp breath. His ship and the Galra brigade had disappeared, leaving him standing alone in a field of stars, suspended in nothingness. His hands appeared spectral before him, as though he was merely a hologram.

I have been waiting for you.

Lance spun around, searching for the source of the voice. Tiny ripples of light radiated out from around his feet with every step. “Where are you?”

Find me on Tyranna.

One by one, the stars flickered out as the scene began to fade, but Lance clung to it like the last fragments of a dream. “Wait— who are you?” he tried to call out, but his voice came out as barely more than a whisper.

You must defend yourself, the voice said, growing fainter with every word. Keep everything and everyone you’re fighting for in your heart, and you will not falter. 

The field of stars faded to black. When Lance opened his eyes again, he was back in the darkened cabin of the ship. His hands had fallen away from the controls, and everything was eerily quiet, save for the ringing in his ears. He sat up and deactivated his mask. 

A single battleship crawled towards him while the others stood idle. Lance reached for the controls without fully registering what he was doing, as though someone else was guiding his hand. The moment his fingertips brushed against the controls, he felt as though a gust of wind slammed into his chest. In the cracked glass of the windshield, he could see that his hair had gone white, and small blue crescents appeared beneath his eyes. He drew in a heavy breath.

He was one half of the universe’s last hope. For the sake of everyone he had to protect, he couldn’t afford to die here.

He placed both hands on the control wheel and felt a spark ignite in his chest. He closed his eyes, feeling the air around him thrum with electricity. He exhaled, opened his eyes, and thrust the controls forward with everything he had.

The lights flickered on, growing brighter and brighter until light engulfed the cabin once more. The engine sputtered and came to life. The ship burst forward, narrowly clipping past the leading battleship and breaking free of the brigade. 

Lance slumped back in his chair, clutching the control wheel tightly as dark spots appeared in his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut to try to shake off the sudden lightheadedness, then shakily reached up and pulled up the navigator on his dashboard.

Tyranna.

The name pulled up a small picture of a vibrant jungle planet, followed by a page of text. 

Tyranna, a popular trading post in the Ionis System — 

A ripple of static obscured the page and the lights of the cabin flickered. Lance gritted his teeth. Trying to make a jump to lightspeed with the ship in this condition was a dangerous game of roulette, but he didn’t have another option.

A triangular crimson warning screen flashed above the dashboard as the Galra battleships pulled into range. Lance punched in the coordinates from the navigator and pulled the thruster before he had a chance to second guess himself.

The ship shuddered and, for a weighted moment, remained motionless. Lance held his breath. The roar of the engine steadily grew louder and louder, then the ship lurched forward and the stars blurred together into blinding streaks of light. The engine let out a high pitched whine, and Lance leaned forward in his seat.

“Come on, just hold together a little longer…”

The seconds seemed to last for eons. With every unexpected bump and jolt, Lance’s grip on the control wheel tightened.

At last, the light faded. Ahead lie a planet colored by swirling shades of green and orange, split down the middle by a thin planetary ring.

A large dark form appeared beside Lance’s ship. Before he could react, the sky exploded with burning violet light. A heavy blast collided with the side of the ship, and the smell of smoke breached the cabin. Lance shot a quick glance over his shoulder, watching as a pillar of flames climbed the left side of the hull.

“Oh, that’s probably not good,” he muttered.

WARNING: CRITICAL FAILURE lit up in blinking bright red letters at the top of the windshield. 

A dark battleship drifted into view, cutting off Lance’s path. On the area scanner above the dashboard, the three red dots representing the Galra cruisers circled his ship like vultures.

“You guys sure are persistent, huh?” Lance said, reaching under the dashboard and pulling some cords free, rerouting all of the ship’s power to the thrusters. “Look, I’m flattered, really, but I’ve got places to be.” He flicked the booster.

The ship burst forward, slipping between the Galra cruisers. The engine let out one final pitiful whine and then fell silent, and the dashboard went dark. Lance hastily ran through the startup procedures as the ship entered the planet’s atmosphere, sinking headfirst into the clouds like a stone. He pulled the thruster and the dashboard flickered with light for a moment, then went dark.

“Come on,” Lance muttered. The ground was getting uncomfortably close, the tops of trees looming ahead like colossal spears. He shut down the power and restarted it once more. The dashboard lit up just long enough for him to grab the controls and yank them up, pulling the ship out of its nosedive. The wings of the ship clipped over the tops of towering trees, and the ship was thrown to the side, landing on the surface of a large lake and skimming the surface. A shower of water sprayed over the windshield, and the ship finally slid to a stop on the bank. 

Lance groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. He unbuckled his seatbelt and stood from his chair slowly, using the back of it to prop himself up. He gave himself a once-over to check for injuries, but other than being a bit winded and dizzy, as far as he could tell, he was miraculously unharmed. 

His ship, on the other hand, was far less lucky. There was now a gaping hole in the right side of the windshield, and though the flames had burned out, the entire left side of the ship was blackened with ash, leaving the electrical wiring fried. 

Lance made a quick sweep of the ship, collecting anything of value that hadn’t been destroyed in the crash. He loaded as many of the supply crates as he could onto a hovercart and initiated the ship’s self destruct sequence, then activated his mask and pried the ship’s ramp loose.

The first thing he noticed when he stepped outside was the rain. The soft pattering against his clothes almost stopped him in his tracks, but a voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he was still standing dangerously close to a ship that was due to blow in a matter of minutes. He pushed the cart out into the jungle, his gaze drifting up to the towering rainforest that surrounded him, with pastel green and orange trees as tall as skyscrapers and star-shaped leaves the size of umbrellas.

Once he got a safe distance from the ship, he powered down the hovercart and tapped a button on his wristband. A holographic screen popped up in front of him, showing different readings of the planet. Once he confirmed that the air was breathable and the rain wasn’t toxic, he deactivated his mask and pulled his hands free of his gloves. He held out his arms, watching as small pools of rain collected in his palms. He let out a giddy laugh, throwing his head back and letting the rain soak his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen rain, but by now it felt like it must have been centuries ago. It was so achingly familiar that it made his chest feel tight.

A sharp explosion sounded, shaking the ground. Lance’s gaze was drawn back to what was left of the ship, now nothing more than a plume of smoke that climbed up into the canopy. He felt the seriousness of the situation seep back into his chest and powered up the hovercart once more. He pulled up a map of the planet’s surface, and his stomach sunk as he found that the nearest trading outpost on the planet would take a few hours to get to on foot. 

A sound like thunder echoed through the trees, growing louder and louder until it was near deafening. Lance turned his gaze skyward and caught glimpses of a swarm of dark, angular ships through the gaps in the canopy. He yanked the hovercart underneath a nearby tree, then held his breath as the ships passed overhead. Even after the roar of engines faded out of earshot, Lance lingered for a moment, his fingers tensing around the handle of the hovercart. 

Once he was certain the fighters had moved on, he set his course with a tired sigh and started off.

It didn’t take long before the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows over the ground. And once the sun set, the planet transformed into a completely different world. 

One by one, the leaves of the trees lit up, glowing with bright neon light. Even the rain started to glow as well, with every drop a different hue. When the drops hit the ground, they exploded into a small splatter of color, then faded. Lance held out his hand, watching the colors burst on his palm.

The trading post was still nowhere in sight, and a quick glance at the map revealed that Lance was only about a quarter of the way there. By now, his clothes were completely soaked, his feet were starting to blister, and his back ached from pushing the hovercart. He was exhausted, having still not fully recovered from using his powers to jumpstart the ship, and was finding it harder and harder to stay on his feet and keep his eyes open. After a moment of deliberation, he decided to try to get some rest before continuing on. 

He pulled the hovercart out of view, hiding it behind some foliage and powering it down. Then he clambered over the towering roots of the nearest tree. Once he found a spot where the canopy kept most of the rain off, he leaned against its trunk, let his head fall back, and closed his eyes.

Eventually, he fell into a restless sleep. His dreams consisted of disjointed scenes and images strewn together without rhyme or reason, and he often found himself tossing and turning in that strange state halfway between dreams and reality.

When he finally opened his eyes again, he was standing back in the jungle of Tyranna. The scene was bathed in warm orange light, and rain fell around him in slow motion. As he stepped forward, circles of light erupted around his feet, radiating out like waves over the wet ground. The edges of his vision grew foggy as he continued on, and the trees and foliage around him vanished like smoke.

Ahead of him lay a large, dark shape.

Its form was distorted, as though Lance was looking at it from underwater. It resembled a lion, but if Lance blinked or tilted his head just right, it started to look more like a machine than a creature. The color of its fur seemed to shift under the light, from midnight black to fiery red and ocean blue, and then to bright yellow and emerald green. Even lying down, it towered over Lance, but despite its size, he didn’t feel afraid. As he drew closer, he reached a hand towards it.

But then the lion’s eyes opened, and the atmosphere shifted. 

The air turned cold, and in an instant everything went dark. The lion’s bright gold eyes burned through the gloom, and Lance stumbled backwards without turning around, unable to look away. The lion stood up to its full height and let out a thunderous roar, shaking the ground beneath Lance’s feet. 

He woke with a start, breathing heavily. For a moment, the only other sound came from the pattering of rain against leaves. But then his gaze snapped towards the sound of rustling in the foliage a few paces away, and his fingers curled around the grip of his blaster.

He slipped over the side of the tree root, keeping low to the ground and treading carefully. He caught sight of a flicker of motion though gaps in the brush, accompanied by the telltale clank of metal footsteps. He took a deep breath, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, then crept forward, raising his blaster. 

The faint, magenta-tinged light reflected off of the sentries’ armor as they swept the landscape with their blasters raised. Lance reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small triangle-shaped device. After twisting the dial in the center of it, he flung it at the sentries. A burst of neon blue lightning emitted from it, then the sentries were yanked towards it, crashing together and landing in a mangled heap of mechanical limbs on the ground. Lance shot down the remaining sentries in quick succession, then pushed his way through the brush, kicking the nearest fallen sentry out of his path.

He took a few minutes to get himself ready to set out again, then retrieved the hovercart from its hiding place and powered it up. The sun was just beginning to peek out from beyond the horizon, dousing the landscape in a hazy, fiery orange glow. The rain was finally starting to let up, gently tapping against the foliage overhead. Lance’s boots crunched over layers of blackened fallen leaves as he continued down the path.

The clouds had thinned and the sun was high in the sky by the time he finally caught sight of the trading post on the horizon line. It was positioned on the top of a hill, circled by a towering bright tan brick wall. A couple of aliens stood guard at the gates and Lance’s fingers itched for his mask, but he knew he couldn’t risk wearing it with the Galra searching for him. He’d just have to play it safe.

“State your business,” one of the market guards demanded as Lance approached.

“Here to get a ride off-world,” Lance said. He waited patiently as the guards opened and searched the crates, knowing there was nothing but medicine and non-perishable food inside. 

But then the second guard muttered something in a language Lance didn’t recognize, nodding at Lance’s belt.

“No weapons beyond the gate,” the first guard growled.

Lance grimaced, then reluctantly unclipped his blasters from his belt and handed them over. “Don’t suppose the rules apply to Galra soldiers as well.”

“That’s different. And, quite frankly, none of your business,” the guard said, snatching Lance’s blasters away.

“Good to know,” Lance muttered, attempting to push his way through. The guard barred his path, crossing four of his six arms over his chest. He held up a fifth arm palm up, raising an eyebrow expectantly. “Oh, come on,” Lance grumbled, digging into his pockets and pulling out a few loose gac. He thrust them into the guard’s grip, who took his sweet time counting through them before moving aside.

“The docking platform is down the street and to the right. Next transport ship’s leaving in a quarter varga,” the guard said. Lance dipped his head in acknowledgement as he passed. The towering gate swung open with a ear-piercing creak, and Lance pushed the cart into the market.

The marketplace here dwarfed the one at the rebel base by a long shot. It was practically a city, with dozens of streets interwoven together and branching off in a maze of shops and booths. Large pillars held slanted maroon tarps over the streets, with lines of lanterns decorated with various flags dangling beneath them. Glass panels covered large gutters that ran across the sides of every street like small streams, filling the air with the sound of rushing water. Every direction Lance turned someone was trying to sell something, and several shopkeepers had hoisted themselves onto overturned crates to be better seen above the crowd.

Lance’s stomach growled as a smell resembling baked goods wafted through the street, and he pulled aside to the nearest booth selling food. He bought something that looked a bit like an oversized ice cream cone, filled with sticky green goo that he hoped would turn out to be at least vaguely edible. A quick taste revealed that it was sickeningly sweet and had about the same consistency as tar, but Lance was too hungry to find it in him to care much.

A light rain began to fall, tapping lightly on the overhead tarp and dripping over the sides of it as Lance wove his way through the busy street. He felt a rush of momentary relief as his gaze landed on the docking station, but it was quickly dashed when he realized the entire platform was swarming with Galra patrols.

He bit his lip and turned away, starting down one of the branching streets. Ahead, a large crowd was gathered around a towering domed building near the end of the street. Lance headed towards it, standing on his toes to try to catch a glimpse. Eventually, he managed to weave his way to the front of the throng, coming to a large hangar filled with lines and lines of starships for sale. There was something in every shape, size, and condition imaginable, ranging from pristine battleship class cruisers to dingy single-person shuttles. He pushed the cart through the rows one by one, stopping to check price tags and inspect the condition of the ships. But with every row he finished, he felt his heart sink a bit more. Every ship was either grossly out of his budget or looked like it could barely make it off the ground, much less outrun a Galra fleet.

After finishing the last row with nothing to show for it, he pushed the cart out into the streets again. He set out aimlessly, worrying his lip as his eyes glazed over hundreds of colorful booths. His situation had officially gone from bad to worse. 

“For the last time, I don’t know,” an annoyed voice said somewhere to Lance’s left. 

“We know that you’ve been working as a supplier for the rebels,” a deeper voice responded.

Lance froze in his tracks. He glanced over his shoulder towards the sound of the voice, and his gaze landed on a narrow alleyway tucked between two streets. He hastily parked the hovercart out of sight behind a nearby stone pillar and backtracked to the alley’s entrance, pressing close to the wall and peering over the side.

A legion of Galra sentries flanked a scowling Galra general, who was towering over an annoyed looking merchant. Lance’s eyes widened and he crept a couple inches closer as his gaze landed on the merchant, because he was… human. He wore a faded yellow jacket with an oil stained blacksmith’s apron over it, his dark hair pulled out of his eyes by a bright green bandanna. He scowled up at the Galra general with his arms crossed and a defiant look in his eyes.

“I supply a lot of things for a lot of people,” the merchant snapped. “What my customers do with their time is none of my business.”

The Galra general let out a frustrated growl and reached for something on his belt. “Maybe this will jog your memory.” He held up a small object that resembled the hilt of a sword, and a bolt of electricity appeared on the end of it.

Before Lance could think about what he was doing, he lunged into the alley and raised his hand toward the Galra general. A pulse of white light appeared at his fingertips, then formed into a blinding arc of energy that swept over the alleyway. The Galra sentries were flung to the ground in pieces, and the general was pitched across the street. The merchant whirled around to face Lance, his mouth dropping open and his eyes widening. But before either of them could say a word, the Galra general climbed to his feet, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head as he stared at Lance.

“Altean.”

Lance’s heart sunk into his stomach. “Oh, quiznak,” he muttered.

He turned on his heel and dashed out of the alleyway, ignoring the Galra general’s roar of protest. Keeping his head lowered, he hastily shoved his way through the crowded street. He made a beeline for one of the booths and snatched a rough grey oversized cloak off of it, slamming a generous amount of money down in its place, then threw it over his jacket and pulled the hood up as he walked.

“Out of my way!” the Galra general’s furious voice snarled. Lance slipped in among a small crowd gathered around a tall orange alien with praying mantis-like arms who was giving a presentation on what Lance could only guess was the mother of all vacuum cleaners. Lance waited in tense apprehension, not daring to look back, his fingers digging into the palms of his hands as he pretended to be intently focused on the presentation.

Once he was nearly certain the coast was clear, Lance shot a quick glance over his shoulder and scanned the crowd. Finding no sign of the Galra general, he started to turn away, but the orange alien called his attention back, shouting something Lance didn’t understand and gesturing enthusiastically to the oversized vacuum cleaner. Lance shook his head with a polite smile and the alien threw his arms up in a harumph, then went back to his presentation.

Lance kept a wary eye out as he tracked back to where he’d stowed the hovercart, pulling his hood down to cover as much of his face as he could and silently praying that his Altean features had faded. He let out a small sigh of relief as he made it back to the alley and found the cart exactly as he’d left it.

He reached for the handles, but something grabbed his shoulder. He ducked beneath the touch and whirled around with his fist raised.

“Whoa, whoa, take it easy!”

Lance’s gaze landed on the merchant he’d rescued earlier, and he lowered his fist, letting out the breath he’d been holding through his teeth. “What the heck, man? You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Sorry, sorry!” the shopkeeper said, raising his hands in surrender. “I just, uh. I wanted to thank you for stepping in earlier.”

“Don’t mention it,” Lance said, shooting a quick glance over his shoulder and scanning the crowd, his heart still pounding against his ribs. “Look, I’d love to stay and chat and everything, but I’m kinda in a pinch here.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to tell me twice. That general looked like he wanted your head. You should probably get out of here, like, ASAP.”

“Believe me, I’d like nothing better,” Lance grumbled, then hesitated a moment, considering. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a way off of here, would you? I can pay.”

The merchant shook his head. “Sorry, man, I’d love to give you a ride, but… I’m pretty much stuck here as well. I got a ride here from my partner Shay, but she won’t be back for another movement or so.” He looked away, his brows furrowed in thought, then he suddenly reached out and grabbed Lance by the shoulders, his eyes widening. “Wait-wait-wait, but I might know someone who can help. I heard Pidge talking about trying to get rid of an old ship earlier. Dunno if she still has it, but maybe it’s worth a shot?”

Lance agreed. The merchant, who introduced himself as Hunk, drew up a map to Pidge’s booth on Lance’s communicator. After running through a list of the best alleys and backways to use to avoid Galra patrols, Hunk glanced down at his watch and cursed under his breath.

“Ah, shoot. Sorry, man, but I really need to get going. I’ve already been away from my stall for too long.”

“Don’t worry about it. And thanks,” Lance said with a grin.

Hunk matched his grin and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck out there.”

“You, too.”

Lance pulled the map up on his communicator and followed it back down the maze of streets. He managed to track his way through without drawing the attention of any Galra patrols, but the closer he got, the more he started to feel a strange nervousness building in his chest, like a string pulled taut and ready to break at a moment’s notice.

The map led him to one of the small faded cream-colored buildings that lined the streets, with a rectangular window cut into the front wall. At the bottom of the window was a metal counter, and on either side hung large colorful banners covered with bold alien lettering.

Lance thought he heard a voice calling out to him and spun around, scanning the crowd. But none of the passerby acknowledged him. He lingered a moment longer, suddenly feeling uneasy.

He shook his head, feeling as though he’d been broken out of a trance. He set the hovercart off to the side and hesitantly stepped up to the counter, unsure of what to expect. The room beyond the window was lined with dozens of rows of metal shelves, stocked with mechanical scraps, robotic limbs, and various bits and ends he couldn’t even put a name to.

“Hello?” Lance called, drumming his hands on the edge of the counter and leaning forward. “I’m looking for someone named Pidge?”

He winced as a loud crash sounded from the other room, followed by the sound of slow, heavy footsteps. Within moments the window was occupied by a stocky robot that towered a few feet over him, seemingly constructed from a random assortment of leftover mechanical parts, its mismatched glowing yellow and blue eyes studying him expectantly.

“Uh… Pidge?” Lance asked tentatively.

 “I am Rover,” the robot proclaimed proudly, its voice unexpectedly light and chipper.

“Oh, okay, cool. I’m Lance.”

“I am Rover.”

“Yeah, we’ve, uh, established that already. Listen, you wouldn’t happen to know where Pidge is, would you?”

“I am Rover.”

“Right. So I’ve heard. You know what, I think I must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere, so I’m just gonna…”

“Wait wait wait,” a voice called from further in the shop. “I’m just finishing up here, I’ll be with you in a tick.”

“Alright, cool,” Lance said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He shot a quick glance over his shoulder, scanning the crowds for Galra patrols.

When he turned back to the shop, Rover had disappeared from the window, and he caught a glimpse of a small, fuzzy, greyish-brown alien making their way to the front of the shop. 

“Your friend there certainly has a way with words,” Lance commented.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I finally managed to get his voice box working, but his vocabulary is still a bit of a work in progress.”

There was a shuffling noise as the creature shoved a bar stool in front of the counter and clambered onto it, and Lance did a double take as the alien’s face popped up in the window. She gave him an expectant look that grew more concerned with every moment that Lance remained silent with his mouth hanging open.

“Hey, uh, buddy? You still with me?” the alien asked, snapping her tiny claws in front of Lance’s face.

“You’re… a raccoon,” Lance said.

The alien— raccoon?— pulled back and curled her lips, showing rows of needle-like teeth. “Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“Uh,” Lance said, his mind suddenly going blank because the talking space raccoon had teeny tiny glasses poised on the bridge of her snout and a little bitty green vest and it was quite possibly the most adorable thing he had ever seen.

“If it was, it was a sorry excuse for one,” she sniffed, crossing her paws over her chest. “And I should know, I’m pretty much an expert on insults.”

Lance was fairly certain his brain had short-circuited, and he shook his head, giving his mind a moment to reboot. Alright, so, apparently talking space raccoons were now a thing. Sure, why not? His life was weird enough already. 

“Uh, sorry. I was just… thinking about something else.” Lance cleared his throat awkwardly, and the alien narrowed her eyes in a scrutinizing look. “Soooo, you’re Pidge, right? Hunk said that maybe you’d be able to help me.”

At the mention of Hunk, the alien’s demeanor instantly brightened. “The one and only,” she said, leaning over the counter. “What can I do for you?”

“Well…” Lance hesitated, biting his lip and tapping his fingers against his thigh. “Okay, so, first of all, this is kind of a weird question, but… were you like… calling out to me?”

Pidge gave him a blank stare, and Lance decided to switch gears.

“You know what, nevermind. You wouldn’t happen to be selling any starships, would you?”

“Actually, I do have one out back. And if you want it, I’ll sell it to you for next to nothing. The thing’s caused me nothing but trouble.”

“Really? That would be—”

“There’s just one teensy problem. It doesn’t work. Like, at all.”

“...Perfect,” Lance grumbled.

“I can show you to it, if you’d like,” Pidge offered.

“Oh, well, I appreciate the offer, but—” Lance paused at the sound of approaching footsteps, accompanied by the clank of metallic limbs. He shot a quick glance over his shoulder, discreetly covering his face with the side of his hood. Across the street, a small legion of Galra sentries had surrounded one of the shops, led by the general that Lance had apprehended before. “Actually, you know what, that’d be great,” Lance said, turning back to face Pidge. “Let’s do that.”

Pidge opened a door on the side of the building and Lance ducked inside, awkwardly pulling the cart in after him. 

“You can leave your cart in the shop,” Pidge called over her shoulder as she headed towards the back of the building. Lance hesitated, opening his mouth to protest. “Relax, I’m not going to rob a potential customer.”

Lance bit his lip, then reluctantly powered down the hovercart near the front of the shop and followed after Pidge.

“Nice robot,” he commented, giving a nod to Rover, who was currently stacking some crates in the corner of the shop.

Pidge shrugged. “I needed an extra pair of hands, and the last guy I hired was stealing stuff under the counter. Decided I needed someone more reliable.” She turned around, walking backwards and holding up her front paws. “These things aren’t great for moving stuff.”

“I am Rover,” Rover said solemnly.

“You said it, buddy. Anyways, the ship’s this way,” Pidge said, pushing open the back door and leading them out to a large yard behind the shop. The yard was separated from the rest of the market by some wooden bars tied together by a few thin wires in what vaguely resembled a fence, and Lance caught a glimpse of the Galra patrol through it.

“I picked it up off of some scavengers a couple years ago. Figured I could fix it up and turn it back for a profit,” Pidge continued as they walked up to a giant shape covered by a dark tan tarp. The ship was far bigger than Lance had expected, around the size of a large two-story house. And from what he could see of the sections that weren’t covered by the tarp, it looked to be in good condition, with only minor wearing on its black paint coat.

Pidge shook her head. “No such luck. Nothing I’ve tried has managed to get it up and running again. I’ve never even seen technology like this before. But the weird thing is that from what I can tell, everything’s in place, so it should be operational. But it just won’t respond to anything I do.”

Lance was only half listening at this point, his gaze darting back to the Galra patrol.

“Most of the doors are shut tight and I can’t get them open without using force, but feel free to look around inside if you’d like. I’m going to get back to repairs. Tell you what, if you like what you see, I’ll sell you the thing for 500 gac. It costs more than it’s worth to lug the thing around anyways.” Pidge gestured toward the ramp leading up to the ship and Lance dipped his head, eager to get out of the patrol’s line of sight.

His footsteps echoed hollowly against the metal ramp as he made his way up to the ship. The interior was completely dark, so he pulled his light disk from his pocket and pressed his thumb against the center until a hovering ball of light appeared above it. The ball of light bounced and then shot forward, illuminating the dark metal walls of the ship.

There wasn’t much to see; as Pidge had said, nearly all of the doors were shut tight, save for one down at the other end of the hall. The ground was covered in a layer of sand and dust, and cobwebs clung to every nook and cranny.

But despite everything, Lance couldn’t help feeling strangely entranced by it. It was like remembering something from a dream, that fleeting, wistful familiarity. Somehow, it felt… right.

The door at the end of the hall was open just wide enough that Lance would have to duck underneath it to get past, and the scratches and gashes near its bottom and the floor indicated that it had been pried open by force. Lance knelt down to get past the door, then jolted and hastily dusted himself off as he got covered in cobwebs. He pressed the button on his light disk once more and the ball of light moved after him into the next room.

Ahead of Lance lay a small railing with stairs on either side descending into the cabin of the ship. It was far more spacious than those of the ships he’d piloted before, around the size of a large living room. The windows swept all the way to the back of the cabin, but all that was visible beyond them was the back of the tarp used to cover the ship. The room was mostly vacant, except for the pilot’s chair positioned near the front of the cabin. Lance felt himself drawn to the chair and walked towards it as though in a trance, his heart suddenly pounding against his chest. He came up to it, peering over the side of it with his heart in his throat and— 

It was empty.

Of course it was. He shook his head, suddenly uncertain of why he’d thought it would be anything else.

He hesitated, his gaze sweeping over the dashboard of the ship, which was covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs. He suddenly felt on edge, though he couldn’t explain why. He mentally shook himself, reasoning that he was getting worked up over nothing, and sat himself down in the pilot’s chair. The motion launched a cloud of dust into the air and he coughed, fanning at the air around him. Then he leaned back, crossing one leg over the other and looking out at the darkened windows of the ship.

A strange anticipation built within his chest. He dropped both feet onto the ground and rested his hands on his thighs. Without thinking, he reached for the dashboard but pulled short before touching it. He hesitated for a moment, then let out a slow breath and grabbed the controls.

His vision blurred, and then everything went dark.

Slowly, the light returned in tiny pinpricks on a canvas of black. He was surrounded by the field of stars once more, but this time he wasn’t alone.

The mechanical lion he’d seen in his dream sat on its haunches in front of him, towering so high that he had to tilt his head back to take in the sight of it. A low rumble echoed in the back of his mind, welcoming and comforting, like a warm blanket draped over his shoulders.

You’ve come at last.

Lance frowned, looking over his shoulder to check if the words were being addressed to someone else. “Uhh, right,” he said, then cleared his throat as his voice came out several octaves higher than normal. “And… who are you, exactly?”

They built me to become the end, but… I wish to be the beginning.

“Uh, ok. Gonna be honest, that’s a bit of a mouthful.” Lance tilted his head to the side, squinting as a shade of blue flickered over the lion’s coat. “Can I call you Blue?”

A low rumble echoed around him, something akin to laughter. If you must.

“Alright, well, cool,” Lance said, nodding and tapping his hand against his thigh. “Now that we’ve got that cleared up… what the quiznak is going on?”

You have awakened, and so awakened me. I am here to guide you to your destiny. The lion lowered its head, letting out an admonishing growl. You’ve been running from it for too long.  

Lance balked at the accusation, letting out a sharp laugh and crossing his arms over his chest.  “I’m not running from anything.”

What are you so afraid of?

“I’m not afraid!”

The lion pulled back, drawing itself up to full height. So prove it.

It opened its mouth and let out a deafening roar that shook the ground, nearly knocking Lance from his feet. The vision started to fade, the darkness washing away like ink. 

The lion’s roar transformed into the thundering hum of an engine. Lance opened his eyes. A small pulse of light appeared within the dashboard of the ship, flickering and then spreading out and lighting up the console. The cabin flooded with blue-tinged light. Lance yanked his hands away from the controls as though they had burned him, then stumbled out of the pilot’s seat and ran for the door.

Pidge was waiting for him at the bottom of the ship’s ramp. 

“What happened?” she demanded the moment Lance came into view. “It sounded like—”

“Ship’s haunted,” Lance blurted out.

“What?”

“I—” Lance paused, movement from across the street drawing his gaze. He sucked in a sharp breath as the Galra patrol headed for Pidge’s shop. 

“You what?” Pidge pressed.

“I’ll take it.”

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll buy the ship.”

“You just said it was haunted!”

“Yeah, well, it, uh… adds to the charm. Here,” Lance said, digging into his pocket and scraping out every last gac he owned. “You can keep the change if you bring my cart back here and stall those guys,” he said, nodding to the approaching Galra patrol.

Pidge took the money and rifled through it, her expression growing more perplexed by the second. “How exactly are you planning on getting out of here with a busted ship?”

“Let me worry about that,” Lance said with a wink and a small salute.

Pidge shot him one last mystified expression before heading back to the shop. Lance backtracked to the top of the ramp and propped his arm against the side of the ship, drumming his fingers against the dark metal.

Before long, the back door to the shop swung open again, and Rover appeared with the hovercart in tow. Lance could hear the sound of voices from the shop, but they were too low for him to make out the words. 

Rover made it halfway up the ramp when his foot slipped on a patch of loose sand. The hovercart slid down the ramp and pitched over the side, hitting the ground with a metallic clang and leaving the supply crates scattered. Lance lunged forward, grabbing one of Rover’s flailing arms in an attempt to steady him, but the robot was far heavier than he was expecting. Rover went down, pulling Lance with him, and they both landed in a heap at the bottom of the ramp. 

“What was that?” a gruff voice demanded from inside the shop.

Lance shoved Rover’s arm off of where it had fallen over his torso and staggered into a standing position, dashing for the overturned hovercart. 

“Nothing,” Pidge’s voice insisted, high-pitched and strained. “We’re just… moving some merchandise.”

Rover made a sad-sounding beeping noise, sitting hunched over with his head bowed.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Lance said, righting the hovercart and hoisting one of the supply crates onto it. “Just help me stack these, will you?”

Rover lifted his head. “I am Rover,” he said, instantly perking up.

“Yeah, I guess that’s your specialty, huh?”

“I am Rover,” Rover repeated, tapping his hand against his chest proudly.

Lance continued to stack the supply crates with Rover’s help, but he froze at the sound of a door slamming, his gaze tracking back to the shop.

“Really, there’s nothing back there,” Pidge’s voice was saying, accompanied by the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. “Just some old junk I haven’t had the chance to fix up.”

Lance activated his mask, then grabbed the handles of the hovercart and yanked it up the ramp, abandoning the lone remaining supply crate on the ground. The door at the back of the shop swung open, and the Galra general stepped out, his eyes locking with Lance’s.

In a quick motion, the general pulled his blaster from its holster and aimed it at Lance. Lance ducked his head and a streak of blinding light flew past him, exploding as it hit the wall behind him. He heaved the hovercart onboard the ship roughly, and it swung to the side and spilled over the deck of the ship. Several more laser blasts flew past him as the sentries joined the Galra general in the yard, and Lance ducked inside the ship, landing on his hands and knees.

He leaned back against the wall and let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes. He felt the thrum of energy around him, then directed his focus inward, feeling his own energy and directing it like a stream. Electricity pricked at his fingertips, and when he opened his eyes, his hands had started to glow with a faint blue light. He drew in a deep breath, released it, then slammed the palms of his hands against the deck of the ship. Ripples of white light radiated out from around his hands, spreading over the deck and disappearing between the floorboards. Lance held his focus, guiding the current of energy until he could feel the ship as though it was an extension of himself.

He let out a shuddering breath, slumping back against the wall of the ship as his vision started to spin. The ship’s ramp raised into the air with a metallic creak, and he was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when he noticed a figure ascending the moving ramp.

“Rover, what are you doing?!” Lance shrieked, stumbling into a standing position and waving his arms frantically. “Get off the ramp!”

But Rover seemed to either not hear him or not care. The robot charged for the entrance of the ship with the last remaining supply crate in his arms, miraculously managing to avoid the barrage of laser fire. The ramp continued to ascend and Rover was thrown forward into the ship as the doors sealed shut, trapping them both inside.

Lance looked from Rover to the sealed door and back again, then slapped a hand against his helmet with a groan. “Oh, man… Pidge is gonna kill me.”

He deactivated his mask and tentatively took a step towards the door, debating whether it would be worth it to try to open it again. A resounding clang sounded from the other side. He jumped back with a yelp, tripping on one of the supply crates and landing flat on his back.

“I am Rover,” Rover chirped.

Lance sat up and rubbed the back of his head, grimacing. Rover stood up and walked over, dropping the remaining supply crate into Lance’s lap. Lance felt his eye twitch.

Another resounding clang sounded from the other side of the door, and Lance winced. He shoved the crate off of his lap and stood up, teetering to the side as he felt a rush of lightheadedness, the ground seeming to roll beneath his feet. Rover set to work on stacking the supply crates near the wall.

Lance started down the hallway towards the cabin, squinting into the darkness and running his hand along the wall. One by one, bars of blue-tinted light flickered on as he walked past, illuminating the way. The door to the cabin rose with a metallic creak, dislodging a shower of dust into the air. 

The moment Lance entered the cabin, the lights turned on, as though the ship had been waiting for him. He froze in the doorway, feeling as though the wind had been slammed out of him as realization dawned on him.

He hadn’t been able to remove the tarp covering the ship.

He slapped the palm of his hand against his forehead, glaring at the darkened windows and silently berating himself for missing something so obvious. He descended the stairs and paced the length of the cabin, weighing his options. He couldn’t leave the ship without facing the Galra, and with no weapons, it was as good as surrender. And he’d used the last of his energy to power the ship, so using that to ward them off wasn’t an option either. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he slumped down in the pilot’s chair, bouncing his leg in nervous apprehension. He was trapped.

Another clang echoed from down the hall. Coming to a decision, Lance reached for the ship’s controls.

“Right,” he muttered under his breath. “What could possibly go wrong?”

His gaze swept over the dashboard, and his sense of unease grew. The controls for the ship were nothing like he’d seen on anything he’d piloted before. He bit his lip and pressed a button experimentally. A small magenta holographic screen popped up with a page of text in an alien language he didn’t recognize. He pulled a lever by his seat and the back of his chair fell back so far he was lying parallel to the ground. After fixing it, he tried another button, which, as far as he could tell, did absolutely nothing. He was about to reach for another lever when the dashboard went dark.

“Oh, no.” Lance drew his hand back, sinking into his chair. “I didn’t manage to break it already, did I?”

A flicker of light caught his eye. On the side of the dashboard to his right was a small circle of light surrounding what looked like an oversized keyhole with a handle in the center. 

“I get the feeling you’re trying to tell me something,” Lance said, propping his elbow on the armrest and resting his cheek on the back of his hand. The circle around the handle started flashing. “Yeah, yeah, I got the message! Sheesh.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Alright, let’s do this. Just gonna… blindly pilot an alien ship possessed by the ghost of a mechanical lion while being chased by evil purple cat people. With my robot sidekick that I accidentally kidnapped from a raccoon. Man, when did my life get so weird ?”

He reached up and twisted the handle, and the effect was immediate. The engine came to life with a thundering roar, the console lit up, and blue-tinted holographic screens appeared above the windshield, showing various readings of the ship. Lance grabbed the controls and let out a steadying breath, then gently pushed them forward.

Or, tried to.

The controls didn’t budge. Lance frowned, then tried again, to no avail. 

“Oh, come on,” he muttered, jiggling the controls with increasing frustration.

Let me guide you, Blue’s voice said, a low, echoing rumble at the back of his mind.

“Did you— did you lock me out of the controls?”

You are not ready. 

“Oh, great. That’s just— great. ” Lance threw his arms up and then crossed them over his chest. “All the ships in the universe, and I had to wind up with the one with the built-in backseat driver.”

Let me show you the way, Blue continued. I will be your eyes. 

“How exactly is that supposed to work?”

You must trust me. 

Another clang echoed from the back of the ship, louder than the previous ones.

We’re running out of time.

“Alright, alright,” Lance said. He leaned forward in the chair, his grip tightening on the controls, and closed his eyes. He focused on the thrum of energy around him, an intricately woven network that pushed and pulled against itself. He could feel another entity close to him and reached for it, but before he could form a connection, another sharp clang resounded through the ship, breaking his focus. He breathed out through his teeth in frustration and shook his head, then reached out again. He latched on to the connection and clung to it, letting his consciousness and the entity’s intertwine.

He breathed in sharply. This entity, whatever it was, was powerful. But its power lay buried deep beneath the surface, like a river trapped beneath a sheet of ice, waiting for a spark to ignite it.

Another clang sounded, and the connection wavered.

Focus. 

Lance was no longer certain whether the voice in his mind belonged to Blue or himself.

Slowly, one by one, the buildings around the ship appeared in Lance’s vision, flares of pulsating violet against a sea of black. The shock of it almost broke his concentration, but he hastily pulled himself back. He eased the controls forward, and this time they relented.

He attempted to maneuver the ship between the buildings surrounding him, but the ship resisted his input, instead swinging left of its own accord. As the sharp corner of a building loomed closer, Lance relented and twisted the controls to the left, nearly clipping a wing. The sudden motion caused the ship to spin out, and he barely managed to pull it steady before it crashed into the street. 

“Aren’t I supposed to be flying the ship, not the other way around?” Lance snapped. “Come on, work with me here!”

The ship was like nothing Lance had ever piloted before. It had a mind of its own, sometimes reacting without Lance’s input, sometimes ignoring his input entirely. It quickly became apparent that he and the ship were horribly out of sync, and what should have been a fairly simple flight soon descended into a match of tug-of-war over the ship’s controls. 

There were more than a few additional close calls, where the ship narrowly missed slamming into a building or losing a wing, and Lance made it his priority to get out of the city as quickly as possible. He swung the ship skyward and launched it forward, and the hum of the engine grew louder as it picked up speed.

A flash of blinding light broke Lance’s concentration and severed his connection to Blue. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking as they adjusted to the light, and watched as the last remnants of the tarp covering the windows was peeled away as the ship pierced the clouds.

Blue let out a low, warning rumble as the sky began to darken around them.

We’re not alone.

Sure enough, within minutes, their path was barred by a blockade of Galra battleships. Lance swung the ship out of the way as the battleships’ cannons opened fire, scorching the sky. 

“Dunno about you, Blue, but these guys are definitely putting a damper on my day,” Lance said, feeling along the back of the controls for the trigger. “Alright, let’s see what this baby can do.”

He pulled the front of the ship level with the nearest battleship and pressed the trigger. A blue tinged beam burst from the ship’s cannons, the force of it knocking the ship back. It burned clean through the side of the battleship, nearly slicing it in half, and the violet lights flickered and then went dark.

“Holy quiznak, ” Lance muttered under his breath.

The remaining battleships opened fire once more. Lance jerked the controls to the right, just as the ship swerved to the left of its own accord, resulting in it spinning out and taking the brunt of the blast. Lance clung to the armrest to keep himself from being flung from his seat as the ship careened backward.

“This thing can take out a battleship in a single shot but no one thought to install a quiznaking seatbelt?” Lance cried out, his voice cracking as he hung on to the armrest for dear life.

The burning light faded, and Lance rubbed the back of his neck with a groan. A small crimson alert popped up over the dashboard, warning him that the force of the blast had nearly burned through the ship’s shields.

“Look,” Lance said, grabbing the controls again and steadying the ship. “If we’re going to get through this, we have to do it together. You told me to trust you, but you have to trust me too.” 

For a moment, the ship was silent, and Lance held his breath. Then Blue gave an affirmative rumble.

Lance’s mouth quirked into a small smile. “Alright, then. Let’s kick some Galra butt.”

He launched the ship forward and opened fire on the nearest battleship, burning a gaping scar into the side of it. He swung the ship underneath the wreckage, and once it was clear, he shoved the controls forward as far as they’d go. The ship shot forward like a bullet, bursting free of the blockade, moving faster than any ship he’d piloted before. 

For a moment, he thought that maybe they’d make it.

But then a thin, neon blue line appeared in front of the ship, slicing the dark sky in two.

“What the…” Lance leaned forward in his seat, squinting. The line spun around like the hands of a clock, creating a circle of swirling blue light.

And the ship was hurtling straight towards it.

Lance tried to yank the controls back, but they wouldn’t budge. “Blue,” he said frantically, continuing to shake the controls to no avail. The ship remained silent.

The cabin flooded with blinding light, and Lance squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face with his arm. He braced himself for an impact that never came. 

The light carried a warmth with it, a warmth that grew hotter and hotter until it was almost burning, and Lance could no longer feel the controls in his hand or the ground beneath his feet.

The warmth faded, leaving him with nothing.

— 

When Lance finally opened his eyes again, the light was gone. He sat up, blinking disorientedly, feeling as though he’d just been roused from a dream. The dashboard and cabin were still lit up in neon blue light, and Blue gave a rumble as he came to. He leaned forward, rubbing a hand over his eyes and scanning the ship’s console. It didn’t take long for him to pull back with a frustrated sigh, having as much luck deciphering the alien controls as he’d had the first time around.

“Blue, can you bring up the ship’s diagnostics for me?” he tried.

A small, blue-tinted screen popped up over the dashboard. Lance reached up and scrolled through it with his index finger, mumbling under his breath as he read along.

“Looks like everything’s in order,” he said absently. “But what the heck was that thing?” 

His gaze drifted out of the ship’s windows, and his bewilderment mounted. The dark sky was covered in a thick, bluish-green mist, and ahead lay a yellow and green planet, covered in swirling clouds and towering spikes.

“Wait,” Lance said, sitting up, his drowsiness dissipating in an instant. “Is that— Blue, can you give me our coordinates?”

A holographic map lit up over the console in front of him, filled with tiny spinning planets the size of golf balls. Lance looked from the map, to the planet ahead of them, and back again.

“Balmera? But… that’s not possible,” he said under his breath. He zoomed out on the map, and the planets were reduced to specks. “It would take two, maybe three jumps to get from Tyranna to Balmera.… but no ship can make two jumps without at least a few hours of downtime in between, let alone three, and I’ve never even heard of a ship that can make three jumps without stopping to refuel.” He waved his hand through the map, and it dissipated. Then he leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the windows of the ship. “You’ve been awfully quiet lately, Blue. Wanna clue me in on exactly what just happened?”

The ship remained silent. 

Lance sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. Whatever. I came here to do a job, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

He guided the ship down to the planet’s surface, taking care to avoid the towering spikes that pierced the tops of the clouds like needles. The terrain of the planet was jagged and rocky, a labyrinth of deep craters, uneven cliffs, and sloping plateaus. Lance flew to the landing site specified in Nyma’s instructions, at the bottom of one of the numerous steep craters dotting the landscape. He lowered the ship carefully, and once near the bottom, he caught sight of several bulky aliens with glowing yellow eyes emerging from tunnels branching off from the crater. 

After powering down the ship, Lance made his way down the hall and enlisted Rover’s help in getting the supply crates stacked on top of the hovercart once more. He activated his mask and lowered the ship’s gangway, then stepped out with Rover and the hovercart close behind. 

One of the Balmerans approached him. She was a couple feet taller than him, with broad shoulders, pointed features, and ash grey skin, looking a bit like a stone sculpture brought to life. “You are the one Nyma sent?” she asked.

Lance gave a nod, stepping aside to allow Rover and the hovercart past. “I’m sorry there isn’t more,” he said solemnly. “I had a run in with the Galra on the way here and lost a good bit of my cargo.”

“We are grateful for anything you can offer us,” the Balmeran said, stepping forward and clasping Lance’s hand between her own. Her eyes darkened. “I wish we did not have to ask for aid like this, but the Galra have taken everything from us.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lance said quietly.

She shook her head. “Do not be. It is people like you that give us hope and the strength to keep fighting.”

Maybe he should have been lifted by her words, but instead, an icy shard of fear twisted in his chest, a fear he had long fought to keep buried.

You are one half of the universe’s last hope.

“Thank you,” he managed to say, but his words sounded distant, as though they were not his own. It suddenly felt difficult to breathe, like the mask he wore was smothering him. “I— I have to go.” He turned away without waiting for a response, his pulse suddenly pounding in his ears.

He felt Blue’s touch against his mind as he came to the hall, but pushed it away, hugging his arms to his chest. He stopped only to shoot a glance over his shoulder and make sure Rover was on board before raising the gangway. Once the ship’s ramp was docked, he wrenched his helmet off, gasping for breath and stumbling towards the pilot’s seat.

Only once the ship was in the air did he finally feel like he could breathe again. He felt Blue’s touch against his mind once more, more gently this time.

What are you afraid of?

Lance took a while to respond, trying to gather his scattered thoughts that seemed to be racing a mile a minute.

“They’re counting on me,” he finally managed to say, his voice trembling. “All of them. The Balmerans, the Olkarions, and everyone in between.” He paused for a moment, drawing in a shaky breath and tightening his grip on the controls. “I’ve spent every day of the last two years fighting for them, but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough. We’d need a miracle to stand a chance against the Galra Empire.

“You were right,” he said, closing his eyes. “All this time, I’ve been trying to tell myself I’m doing the right thing, but I’ve been running away. From the Blade, from my feelings, from what’s expected of me. Because I’m the miracle that everyone needs to turn the tide of this war. And that scares me more than anything.

“I never asked for this. Everyone’s counting on me to save the universe, but what if I can’t? What if I’m not enough? I’m not a hero, Blue, I— I don’t even know what I’m doing out here. I’m just a boy from Cuba who’s in way over his head.” He slumped back in his chair, watching the stars drift by the windows with unseeing eyes.

You’re wrong, you know, Blue purred, her words settling over him like a blanket of warmth. You say you’re not a hero, but you were a hero to the Balmerans today, and to countless others. And I cannot say whether we will win or lose in the end, but you do not have to bear the weight of the universe alone.

Lance froze. There was something in her words, the way she said them…

“Blue… who are you, really?” he asked.

Blue gave a low rumble that almost sounded like laughter. I think you already know the answer.

— 

Commander Sendak watched with narrowed eyes as General Vhak entered the bridge of the ship, accompanied by an escort of sentries. Vhak’s head was bowed, his ears pressed against the sides of his head. Sendak’s lip curled. Pathetic.

“Commander Sendak,” Vhak said in greeting, dropping to his knees and clutching a clawed hand over his heart. “Please, allow me to explain—”

“No,” Sendak spat. Vhak flinched. “Allow me.” He stood from his chair with a flourish, and Vhak cowered before him. “I gave you an entire fleet to capture a single fighter and extract the location of the rebel base. And not only did you fail to do so,” Sendak snarled, his voice trembling with barely contained fury, “but somehow you also managed to lose two battleships in the process. Does that about sum it up?”

“Commander—” Vhak started.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t dispose of you right now.”

Vhak flinched, shrinking behind his escort. “The— the mission wasn’t a complete failure, sir.”

“Explain.”

“While the rebel we were chasing did get away, we managed to capture two of his accomplices.” Vhak gave a nod to one of his escorts, who disappeared into the hall for a moment and returned with two figures in tow.

One was an earthling, dressed in the typical fashion of a travelling merchant, his hair pulled back with a bandanna and a worn, faded apron over his clothes. The other was an alien Sendak was unfamiliar with, a small, fuzzy creature with greyish brown fur and a striped bushy tail.

“For the last time, we’re not with the rebels,” the fuzzy alien snapped, tugging on her restraints. “All I did was sell a guy a ship. How was I supposed to know he was rebellion?”

Sendak narrowed his eyes. “Transport them to Beta Traz and await further instructions,” he demanded. The sentries surrounded the prisoners, ignoring their shouts of protest and leading them away. “And you—” Vhak jolted as Sendak addressed him— “get out of my sight, and pray you do not cross my path again.”

Vhak dipped his head and scurried after the sentries. Once the door to the bridge slid closed behind him, Sendak sunk back into his chair, running a clawed thumb over his chin. “What a mess,” he growled. “And no doubt I’ll be blamed for it.”

“Sir,” a voice said from somewhere to his left.

Sendak let out his breath through his teeth. “What is it now, Lieutenant?”

“We’re receiving a transmission,” Haxus said as he approached, his hands clasped in front of him.

“It can wait.”

“Sir, it’s… from the emperor himself.”

Sendak felt a chill run down his spine. “The emperor?” he repeated, standing. Zarkon couldn’t have found out about Vhak’s blunder already, could he? “Put him through,” Sendak demanded, following Haxus to the front of the bridge.

Haxus complied, and a large fluorescent screen lit up over the windshield. Emperor Zarkon’s glowing violet eyes burned through the dimness, the rest of his face partially obscured by shadow. But from what Sendak could see, he looked pale and sallow, his eyes sunken and dark around the edges, his skin clinging to his cheekbones like damp paper. Sendak narrowed his eyes.

“My emperor,” he said, taking a knee and clasping his hand over his heart. “To what do I owe this honor?”

“Stand,” Zarkon’s deep, rough voice commanded. “I bring urgent news from the druids.”

Sendak felt his lip curl at the mention of the druids, but did as he was told. “What is it, my lord?”

“Voltron has awakened.”

The bridge fell into stunned silence, quickly followed by frantic, hushed whispers.

“Silence!” Sendak demanded, turning on his crew. He would not be made a fool of in the emperor’s presence. But then the gravity of Zarkon’s words sunk in. “Voltron?” he repeated, the name tasting of poison on his tongue.

“With the witch’s assistance, we have discovered its location,” Zarkon continued. “I am entrusting you with its capture.”

Sendak bowed his head. “It will be done, my lord.”

“Do not underestimate the importance of this mission. That ship has the potential to turn the tide of this war. I would rather see it sent back to oblivion than in the hands of our enemies.”

“I will not fail you,” Sendak vowed.

Zarkon’s eyes narrowed. “See to it that you don’t. I haven’t forgotten your blunder at Nexlii.”

Sendak suppressed a flinch at the memory. “Forgive me, my lord. It will not happen again.”

“We will see.” The screen faded to black.

— 

Once the screen dissipated, Zarkon slumped back in his throne, a wracking cough shaking his body. 

“Sire,” Haggar rasped, raising a hand to him as she approached the throne.

“Leave me, witch,” Zarkon snarled, swatting her hand away.

“Your condition is deteriorating.”

“You think I can’t— can’t see that?” Zarkon growled between strained breaths. He leaned back, closing his eyes. “And now I have Alfor’s infernal contraption to contend with.”

“Voltron,” Haggar muttered. “Sire, is it wise to entrust such an important mission to Sendak?”

“I don’t expect him to succeed.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Haggar’s face, but she quickly schooled it into something more neutral.

“Sendak has become something of a liability as of late,” Zarkon said, drumming his clawed fingers on the armrest of his throne. “I want to see exactly what we’re dealing with. And if Sendak somehow manages to complete his task, all the better.”

“And if he fails?” Haggar pressed. “What then?”

“I—” Zarkon was cut off by another coughing fit, and he gripped the armrest of his throne tightly, his claws scarring the surface. “It… may be time,” he concluded, lowering his head in resignation.

“My lord?”

Zarkon narrowed his eyes, setting his mouth in a grim line. “Summon Prince Lotor.”